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poetry by dead men (live from the hollywood bowl) - sara bareilles lyrics

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[intro]
holy sh*t we’re at the hollywood bowl
goodnight, goodbye, gotta go
just kidding, i just got here
i’m so glad you’re here
thank you for coming

[verse 1]
by the time you hear this, i’ll be in the rearview mirror
i’ll even wear that green dress you like, so when i disappear
you can turn around, one last look at the girl you lost
in the time you took to make up your mind between two roads
go and take some more time, but me and mine must go

[pre*chorus]
i tried to wait it out, no more
i can’t find the man i was waiting for

[chorus]
i wanted to be your girl in a white t*shirt
over coffee, stirrin’ in the cinnamon
while you read me poetry by dead men
i wanted to be your girl with your hands on my skin
stirrin’ in the cinnamon
while you read me poetry by dead men
(while you read me poetry by dead men)
while you read me poetry by dead men
[verse 2]
by the time you hear this, who knows where i might be?
singin’ ’bout another near*miss love that ended incomplete
i was ready, but you weren’t
so jump with your net from this bridge you’ve burned
i wanted to tell you things, all the secrets i’ve been keepin’
i saw it in front of me, but then you just kept disappearin’

[pre*chorus]
a good dream, almost
now i tell your ghost

[chorus]
i wanted to be your girl in a white t*shirt
over coffee, stirrin’ in the cinnamon
while you read me poetry by dead men
i wanted to be your girl with your hands on my skin
stirrin’ in the cinnamon
while you read me poetry by dead men
(while you read me poetry by dead men)
while you read me poetry by dead men

[bridge]
line after line, the words just left to remind
the two of us, oh, what we could have been
poetry by dead men
fire from embers, how can i make you remember?
with a turn of a phrase, would you turn to me if i say
“i still want to be your girl?”
[chorus]
i still wanna be your girl in a white t*shirt
over coffee, stirrin’ in the cinnamon
while you read me poetry by dead men
i wanted to be your girl with your hands on my skin
stirrin’ in the cinnamon
while you read me poetry
(while you read me poetry by dead men)
while you read me poetry
(i wanted to be your girl)
i wanted to be your girl
(i wanted to be your girl)
i wanted to be your girl
(i wanted to be your girl)
(i wanted to be your girl)

[outro]
this is what i look like standing up
thank you!
alright, goodnight
that’s gonna be my thing tonight i reckon, i can already feel it, i’m just gonna keep pretending like i’m leaving
then it’s gonna be like 11:30, and you guys are gonna be like “is she gonna f*cking leave? we would love that, parking is hard”
we’re at the hollywood bowl
i’m the most nervous about this show, i’m just gonna get it out there
l.a., you motherf*ckers, you intimidate me, it’s why i had to move
just kidding, i love coming back, it feels like home

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