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• Artiste: Rickie Lee Jones
• Titre: Howard
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The spirits of her abortion had manifested... The spirits of all her abortions manifested themselves into the furniture in the room There would be a chair waiting, smiling, the pictures on the wall watched her in disbelief She'd go carry the garbage out to the sidewalk and come back in and sit with all her children inanimate, petrified forever A little boy named Howard, everybody knows one of those guys in school who kills everything he finds, Every little cat, every mouse, every dog, likes to burn his sister with cigarettes Diabolical schemes, everything has been conspired, the doors wired That's 'cause those south Americans tied him up in a chair, He was doing that dope deal, he never got over that You're just made of words, you're just made of sounds