| Sometimes I just give up trying
|
| It seems like a lifetime
|
| That I’ve been fighting
|
| It was hard enough
|
| Just getting out of bed today
|
| I’d call someone but what on earth
|
| Would I even say
|
| Here in this airless space
|
| No one to plead your pitiful case
|
| Some call this thing the soul of sadness
|
| Self-indulgence or a brilliant madness
|
| All I know is I dying for air
|
| Swimming just below the waves
|
| I can see the sky
|
| Looking darkly through the haze
|
| The moon is drifting by
|
| Then someone cuts the anchor
|
| And slowly up I rise
|
| An unwelcome guest in your home
|
| That comes to stay and never wants goes
|
| Not some much shadow but visitation
|
| A haunting foreign movie with no translation
|
| There’s buzzing white noise in my head
|
| Then sometimes so silent I’m almost dead
|
| One true thing I hold to dear and fast
|
| Is a voice that whispers
|
| «Darlin' this too will pass»
|
| Even when I’m dying for air
|
| Swimming just below the waves
|
| I can see the sky
|
| Looking darkly through the haze
|
| The moon is drifting by
|
| Then someone cuts the anchor
|
| And slowly up I rise
|
| This is just a picture not complaint
|
| Making full sentences
|
| Has never been my strength
|
| Some call this thing the soul of sadness
|
| Self-indulgence or a brilliant madness
|
| All I know is I’m dying for air
|
| All I know is I’m dying for air |