For the Song

Tired legs, tired lips she tries to muscle on With every breath she draws in through her lungs And every route that led here leads to where she's goin' She'll rise and she'll fall and she'll try for the song Money in her pocket with a face that looks like hers No doubts of her intentions to twist the scales and words No claim that her companion settled for her scores She'll be low, she'll be right, she'll be high, she'll be the source And when the rage comes around And every critic's tearing up her ground The truth becomes power Saw her sitting there in silence wondering how to carry on Says "I'm no passing illusion or trend you can own I am not an object you can curse or define I'll live and I'll die and I'll rise for my lines" And when the stars come around And everyone is handing her the crown She'll be steady and still "I am heading Homeward bound When you find me I won't be found"