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Patty Griffin
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Making Pies
It's not far
I can walk
Down the block
To Table Talk
Close my eyes
Make the pies all day
Plastic cap
on my hair
I used to mind
now I don't care
I used to mind now I don't care
'Cause I'm gray
Did I show you this picture of my nephew
Taken at his big birthday surprise
At my sister's house last Sunday?
This is Monday and I'm making pies
I'm making pies, making pies
Thursday nights
I go and type
Down to the church
For Father Mike
It gets me out
And he ain't hard to like
At all
Jesus stares at me
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In my chair
With his big blue eyes
And his honey brown hair
He's looking at me
From way up there
On the wall
Did I show you this
picture of my sweetheart
Taken of us before the war?
Of the Greek and his Italian girl
One Sunday at the shore
We tied our ribbons to the fire escape
They were taken by the birds
Who flew home to the country
As the bombs rained on the world
Five a.m.
Here I am
Walking the block
To Table Talk
You could cry or die
Or just make pies all day
I'm making pies, making pies
I'm making pies, making pies
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