I can't get out of bed, so I'll sleep all day instead.
Bad dreams run through my head about today and days ahead.
The city shakes and breathes around me as I sleep.
I'll make my make beliefs, as my ceiling creaks with feet.

I could leave this room but I won't, because it's best, I suppose.
You see I do and I don't believe in my ability to follow through
with all the things that I implied that I would do.

If I had the will, and I had youth, if I had stomach for the truth,
I'd lift my coat and tip my cap and chase the dreams that I once had.
But now and then I lose the plot and waste the time I haven't got to spare
and sit and stare at nothing. God, I need to feel some something.

No, I don't chase paper because it gives me the blues.
But I work hard every day and I get closer to the truth.

By and by it all subsides, to different shades of black and white
like pages I can hide behind in books I read to pass the time.
But more and more, now I can see that I still make my make beliefs
but what a mess, my memory does lack reliability.
So I write these songs about myself, cus when I feel down it often helps.
I pay my bills, I cook my meals, I take my time, I drag my heels.

I've come to know real silence in this old empty house.
And I've come to learn of all these things that I can live without.
But for every hill that I've conquered, and friend that I've let go,
and love I've known and lost makes me miss everyone that I know.