| First:
|
| There’s a cut on my arm
|
| But it’s nearly a joust,
|
| And the knife on my bed
|
| Merely mirrors the room.
|
| On the window still lies,
|
| Just white shoes on the floor.
|
| And the touch of the sun
|
| Is cutting my eyes,
|
| And it’s coming on close,
|
| Soon be slicing my edge.
|
| And crawl to the bed
|
| But the back’s still in place.
|
| Put us into scenes
|
| And let us escape.
|
| Or make us a role,
|
| Coming on, nothing less;
|
| Like a touch of mystique,
|
| But a hint of the sign.
|
| It’s another long year,
|
| But nothing passes like time.
|
| Second:
|
| It’s another sad day
|
| In another sad place,
|
| And a cut in the arm’s
|
| Better than one in the face.
|
| And I’m taking the message,
|
| I’m still rather young,
|
| Not ready to give up,
|
| I’m still hanging on.
|
| Oh, I can understand you,
|
| You gave up before.
|
| It’s another reaction
|
| To another betrayal,
|
| Just a lack of approval,
|
| Another sad day.
|
| But the reality bores me
|
| Like the dream of a home,
|
| For the sons of heroes,
|
| But the child sits down
|
| By the fire that burns
|
| And the fire that stuns.
|
| I can understand that
|
| You can’t understand me.
|
| I can understand you,
|
| Can’t understand me.
|
| Understand you,
|
| Try to understand me.
|
| It’s not that easy
|
| To understand me.
|
| It’s not that easy
|
| To understand me.
|
| It’s not that easy
|
| To understand me.
|
| It’s not that easy
|
| To understand me.
|
| Understand me.
|
| Understand me.
|
| Understand me. |