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It scares me to speak my mind |
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It might sound self-absorbed |
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I don't say half of what |
|
I thinkI wonder what |
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I'm thinkin' for |
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I'm smellin' dead flowers |
|
And listenin' to the walls again |
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I'm drinkin' from a leaky faucet |
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And writin' with this dried up pen |
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Wish I still had my imaginary friend |
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And who needs to listen, well |
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What do I have to sell |
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Everyone's just waitin' for their own turn |
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Kinda like show and tell |
|
Smellin' dead flowers |
|
And listenin' to the walls again |
|
I'm drinkin' from a leaky faucet |
|
And writin' with this dried up pen |
|
Wish I still had my imaginary friend |
|
Wish I still had my imaginary friend |
|
Someone to listen, someone to laugh |
|
Someone to cry at the right time |
|
I'm smellin' dead flowers |
|
And listenin' to the walls again |
|
I'm drinkin' from a leaky faucet |
|
And writin' with this dried up pen |
|
You know that |
|
I'm smellin' dead flowers |
|
And listenin' to the walls |
|
Drinkin' from a leaky faucet |
|
And writin' with this dried up pen |
|
Wish I still had my imaginary friend |
|
Wish I still had my imaginary friend |
|
And I would call him up |
|
But I don't remember his name |
