It scares me to speak my mind
It might sound self-absorbed
I don't say half of what i think.
I wonder what i'm thinkin' for

I'm smelling dead flowers
And listening to the walls again
I'm drinking from a leaky faucet
And writing this with a dried up pen
Wish i still had my imaginary friend

And who needs to listen, well...
What do i have to sell
Everyone's just waitin for their own turn
Kind of like show and tell

Someone to listen
Someone to laugh
Someone to cry at the right times

And i would call him up
But i don't remember his name