Chalk Lines by TJ Washburn Lyrics
A southern transplant in a Bushwick bar defends his indicted nation
They got a story and a right to tell it, I’m gonna listen like I would to you
I don’t condemn them or respect and forgive them, I honestly don’t know what else I can do
Understanding doesn’t mean I approve and compassion isn’t normalization
Compassion isn’t normalization, compassion isn’t normalization
Understanding doesn’t mean I approve and compassion isn’t normalization
Oh, a widow jokes with the guests arriving at her husband’s memorial service
Her sister and her mother are confused by that and they tell her it’s offensivе and flippant
She says, “The way that I handle this part isn’t wrong just ‘causе it’s different
I can’t divide my feelings up neatly; I’m sorry if it makes you nervous
“I’m sorry if it makes you nervous, I’m sorry if it makes you nervous
But I can’t divide my feelings up neatly; I’m sorry if it makes you nervous”
A recent college dropout sits in a library study room
Reading Dickey’s Strength of Fields while the August dusk descends outside
The melancholy of a later summer, the perspective a Dickey poem can provide
Prompts him to reassess some things what he previously just assumed
Like how the lines we draw between joy and pain, between liberal and reactionary
They’re about as real as the lines a child draws on the playground pavement in chalk
Now I’m disinclined to allow those lines to define where I can and cannot walk
Boundaries, of some folks, make sense of the world, but for me they’re not necessary
Oh, for me they’re not necessary, for me they’re not necessary
Boundaries, of some folks, make sense of the world, but for me they’re not necessary
They got a story and a right to tell it, I’m gonna listen like I would to you
I don’t condemn them or respect and forgive them, I honestly don’t know what else I can do
Understanding doesn’t mean I approve and compassion isn’t normalization
Compassion isn’t normalization, compassion isn’t normalization
Understanding doesn’t mean I approve and compassion isn’t normalization
Oh, a widow jokes with the guests arriving at her husband’s memorial service
Her sister and her mother are confused by that and they tell her it’s offensivе and flippant
She says, “The way that I handle this part isn’t wrong just ‘causе it’s different
I can’t divide my feelings up neatly; I’m sorry if it makes you nervous
“I’m sorry if it makes you nervous, I’m sorry if it makes you nervous
But I can’t divide my feelings up neatly; I’m sorry if it makes you nervous”
A recent college dropout sits in a library study room
Reading Dickey’s Strength of Fields while the August dusk descends outside
The melancholy of a later summer, the perspective a Dickey poem can provide
Prompts him to reassess some things what he previously just assumed
Like how the lines we draw between joy and pain, between liberal and reactionary
They’re about as real as the lines a child draws on the playground pavement in chalk
Now I’m disinclined to allow those lines to define where I can and cannot walk
Boundaries, of some folks, make sense of the world, but for me they’re not necessary
Oh, for me they’re not necessary, for me they’re not necessary
Boundaries, of some folks, make sense of the world, but for me they’re not necessary