Amelia Day - The Songwriter Lyrics

Growin' up and on in Saskatchewan, where the river's freezin' over
In the city of bridges, but you'll sleep with the fishes if you cross 'em while you're sober
She questions the Bible, skips over revival, but goes to church choir with the smokers
Says she'll be a folksinger, Mama never believed her, so she did it just to show her, now
Ooo, ooo, ooo
Oh, oh, oh
Askin' hundred apiece for the union fees, but just 15 a week can't afford to
Pay out the venues, so she's sellin' the menus, pourin' coffee for those with more fortune
Missin' the statements, playin' coffeehouse basements, entertainin' on a stool in the corner
Alone in an attic with the sound of the traffic, romantic who needs to start over
Now, everybody listens to the songwriter
Claimin' they know every single word
Now, everybody sings the songs of the writer
But no one knows the writer but her
Trekkin' cross-country, caught a flight for the hungry, appetite for a bite of the apple
Circlin' the circuit, call it god-given purpose, a wordsmith whose word's worth a gamble
Her pen to the paper, fin'lly fame found her favor, fieldin' calls from the industry handles
Down the road again, down the coast, found some friends, cut her crown from a canyon of laurel
Now, everybody listens to the songwriter
Claimin' they know every single word
Everybody sings the songs of the writer
But no one knows the writer but her
Tourin' the nation, soarin' high 'bove her station, serenadin' the boys who adore her
They worship the mystic, long-haired hippie heuristic, a prophet for poet performers
Afraid of the sainthood, she escapes to the backwoods, Eve all alone in the orchard
Rebirth, resurrection, arbitrary expressions for findin' a way to move forward
Now, everybody listens to the songwriter
Claimin' they know every single word
Now, everybody sings the songs of the writer
But no one knows the writer but her
No one knows the writer but her
No one knows the writer but her