EverythingInTransit

• Delen

dinsdag, 23 december 2008 om 16:41

And my friend calls me up,
she says: "How have you been?"
I say: "Dear, I've been well,
yeah the money's coming,
but I miss you like hell.
I still hear you in this
old piano, yeah."
She says, "Andy, I know
that we don't talk as much,
but I still hear your ghost
in these old punk rock clubs.
Come on, write me a song,
give me something to trust.
Just promise you won't let it be
just the keys that you touch.
My friend calls me up,
with her heart heavy still;
she says, "Andy, the doctors
prescribed me the pills.
But I know I'm not crazy.
I just lost my will.
So why am I.. why am I
Taking them still?"

I need something to believe in,
a breath from the breathing.
So write it down,
I don't think that I'll close my eyes.
'Cause lately I'm not dreaming,
so what's the point in sleeping?
It's just that at night,
I've got nowhere to hide..

To the sleepless, this is my reply:
I will write you a lullaby,
A lullaby.
Het opslaan is mislukt. Probeer opnieuw.