The song lyrics were written by the band Van Halen, as they were asked to write a song for the 1979 movie "Over the Edge" starring Matt Dillon. The movie (and the lyrics, although more obliquely) are about bored, rebellious youth with nothing better to do than get into trouble. If you see the movie, these lyrics will make more sense. It's a great movie if you grew up in the 70s/80s you'll definitely remember some of these characters from your own life. Fun fact, after writing the song, Van Halen decided not to let the movie use it.
Housewives trying to recapture their youth
By wearing floral print and suede
Fixing their hairdos with PC, chemical-free hairspray
Martha Stewart taught them to make on TV
I was raised a farm girl
I'm too far from home, all alone on the road
Trying to figure out who I am now the the stardust has turned to sand
And the sand has turned to stone on the star making machine
[Chorus]
I'm thirty one years old
That ain't the end but it sure ain't where I began
And my daddy, he wrote songs and he broke colts
And he went back to school to get a degree
Now he teaches music to kids, he taught music to me
And this Alaskan girl was living in Stephenville, Texas
Yes, you guessed it, I moved here because I fell in love with a man
And I moved his ex-old lady's things out of the closet
The same closet I had to move my things back in
It didn't make me feel that great, as if to demonstrate
Everything's temporary given enough time
But hey, I've got nothing to lose
I'm a singer for crowds, I'm a writer of songs
Hey Mom, look, I'm an entertainer
I'm a modern day troubadour trying to find justice with six strings
Trying to make the world make sense out of me
Trying to be loved completely, trying to love honestly
Trying to find a decent high noon cup of tea
In another hotel
I'm trying to listen to the leaves speak
Trying to steal secrets from fishes in the creek
Trying to figure out who I am
a pretty mediocre cook, an even worse mathematician, maybe a mother someday
What will it be?
[Chorus]
I'm trying to figure out who I am
But there's no hand to hold, no Doctor Martin Luther King
There's just sycophants
And the mindlessness on TV or in the magazines
On the latest ways to behave
So why not follow me, the blond bombshell deity?
I'll sell you neat ideas without big words
And a little bit of cleavage to wash it all down
Hey, everybody thought Godard was a clown
Man that ain't gonna be me
[Chorus: x2]
By wearing floral print and suede
Fixing their hairdos with PC, chemical-free hairspray
Martha Stewart taught them to make on TV
I was raised a farm girl
I'm too far from home, all alone on the road
Trying to figure out who I am now the the stardust has turned to sand
And the sand has turned to stone on the star making machine
[Chorus]
I'm thirty one years old
That ain't the end but it sure ain't where I began
And my daddy, he wrote songs and he broke colts
And he went back to school to get a degree
Now he teaches music to kids, he taught music to me
And this Alaskan girl was living in Stephenville, Texas
Yes, you guessed it, I moved here because I fell in love with a man
And I moved his ex-old lady's things out of the closet
The same closet I had to move my things back in
It didn't make me feel that great, as if to demonstrate
Everything's temporary given enough time
But hey, I've got nothing to lose
I'm a singer for crowds, I'm a writer of songs
Hey Mom, look, I'm an entertainer
I'm a modern day troubadour trying to find justice with six strings
Trying to make the world make sense out of me
Trying to be loved completely, trying to love honestly
Trying to find a decent high noon cup of tea
In another hotel
I'm trying to listen to the leaves speak
Trying to steal secrets from fishes in the creek
Trying to figure out who I am
a pretty mediocre cook, an even worse mathematician, maybe a mother someday
What will it be?
[Chorus]
I'm trying to figure out who I am
But there's no hand to hold, no Doctor Martin Luther King
There's just sycophants
And the mindlessness on TV or in the magazines
On the latest ways to behave
So why not follow me, the blond bombshell deity?
I'll sell you neat ideas without big words
And a little bit of cleavage to wash it all down
Hey, everybody thought Godard was a clown
Man that ain't gonna be me
[Chorus: x2]
Lyrics submitted by AtzKilcher
Stephenville, TX Lyrics as written by Jewel Kilcher
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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