letra de life story - lynne wintersteller
[woman 2]
it was a liberated marriage
we shared the household chores, of course
we understood each other’s feelings
right down to the day of our sensible divorce
i didn’t ask him for a penny
i’d had my “liberated” training
so off he went with his hair of bronze
to find a life like kahlil gibran’s
i got my rest from the drugs he did
he got his quest, i got the kid
and oh—i’m not complaining
so i set off to be a writer
a modern mother on her own
i wrote up happenings at galleries
turned down jobs with salaries
stayed free-lance and alone
i fought the battles of the sixties
which, you recall, were rather draining
when men were thick, i hit the fray
became a pr-ck, got equal pay
i faced down chauvinistic slobs
i won the fights, improved the jobs
and oh—i’m not complaining
my husband found himself his ashram
lost forty pounds and went through h-ll
then one day he came back from limbo
found himself some bimbo
and moved to new roch-lle
i raised my son and i had lovers
my choices sometimes take explaining
i’d meet some jock, my friends would scoff
he’s stay awhile, i’d drive him off
i kept my sp-ce, preserved my turf
six months—i’d send him back to surf
and oh—i was not complaining
so now my son’s halfway through college
i pay tuition like a fine
i’m still this feisty free-lance writer
resume well-honed at a well-toned forty-nine
i find that getting work is harder
each job i want takes more campaigning
and those sweet young things who hire me know
those m.b.a.’s making fifty thou
who smile and ask what i have done
when they got their jobs from the fights i won
[woman 2, spoken]
ah, they should all stay home and have babies!
[woman 2]
but i’m not complaining
and in the evening at my window
as i watch jersey growing dim
i feel a troubling emotion
summed up in this notion:
i wish i’d stayed with him
lord knows each day with him was madness
as i have spent my life maintaining
but more and more i recall the joy
my golden dreamer, my lost boy
our life was life in “the twilight zone”
but no worse than a life alone
and oh—
well, i chose my way
and i’m not complaining
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