Offer...

by Alanis Morissette

Who? Who am I to be blue?

Look at my family and fortune... Look at my friends and my house...

Who? Who am I to feel dead end?

Who am I to feel spent?

Look at my health and my money...

And where, where do I go to feel good?

Why do I still look outside me, when, clearly, I've seen it won't work?

Is it my calling to keep on, when I'm unable?

And is it my job to be selfless extraordinaire?

And my generosity has me disabled, by this my sense of duty to offer...

And why, why do I feel so ungrateful?

Me, who is far beyond survival... Me, who see life as an oyster...

Is it my calling to keep on, when I'm unable?

And is it my job to be selfless extraordinaire?

And my generosity has me disabled, by this my sense of duty to offer...

And how, how dare I rest on my laurels?

How dare I ignore an out stretched hand?

How dare I ignore a third world country?
Is it my calling to keep on, when I'm unable?
And is it my job to be selfless extraordinaire?
And my generosity has me disabled, by this my sense of duty to offer...