| She came back on the Brooklyn breeze
|
| Blowin' through the willow trees
|
| Selling her wares off of balconies
|
| But I am still Mr. Nobody
|
| He came through town on the crest of a wave
|
| Crocodile boots, he’s feeling brave
|
| Hometown hero’s got the streets to pave
|
| But he still fears the day
|
| All my life I’ve been singing these words
|
| Trying to make a dime
|
| Fill up the tank with gasoline
|
| Drive until I loose my tires
|
| All caught up with everything else
|
| This time I’ll just be me
|
| But I don’t feel sad
|
| Being Mr. Nobody
|
| Well I’m holding on to the very last rung
|
| From the tip of my toes to the tip of my tongue
|
| All the letters felt overdone
|
| But I’m still waiting to feel the sun
|
| So I’m making amends from where I sit
|
| Kicking old habits, making‘ em stick
|
| From the rocking chair to the casket
|
| I’ll be strumming along till I’m a silhouette
|
| All my life I’ve been singing these words
|
| Trying to make a dime
|
| Fill up the tank with gasoline
|
| Drive until I lose my tires
|
| All caught up with everything else
|
| This time I’ll just be me
|
| But I don’t feel sad
|
| Being Mr. Nobody
|
| All my life I’ve been singing these words
|
| Trying to make a dime
|
| Fill up the tank with gasoline
|
| Drive until I lose my tires
|
| All caught up with everything else
|
| This time I’ll just be me
|
| But I don’t feel sad
|
| Being Mr. Nobody
|
| She came back on the Brooklyn breeze
|
| Blowin' through the willow trees
|
| Selling her wares off of balconies
|
| Oh I am still Mr. Nobody
|
| Oh I am still Mr. Nobody |