| The feeling of falling
|
| is still so familiar
|
| The pain in my stomach
|
| is better, but baby
|
| Bright colours
|
| have faded too early this year
|
| And strangers look stranger 'round here
|
| The flowers you’ve left here
|
| have died in the heat
|
| I see parts of your face now,
|
| and girls in the street
|
| I hope you like your new neighbors
|
| Don’t sleep with every new stranger
|
| It’s lonely, but only at night
|
| And most of the time I’m breathing fine
|
| Most of the time I’m breathing fine
|
| I stay at familiar places
|
| I talk to myself in empty spaces
|
| But breathing is fine
|
| most of the time
|
| It’s half of me, baby
|
| that still is infected
|
| No water has cleansed it
|
| No sleep has erased it
|
| Towards and aways from
|
| This room is a cage
|
| And things I’m trying to write you
|
| lay die on the page
|
| But most of the time I’m breathing fine
|
| Most of the time I’m breathing fine
|
| I played through the great composers
|
| I got through the night
|
| And while in prose and
|
| Breathing is fine,
|
| most of the time
|
| Whatelse I gonna retell you
|
| I just turned thirty-one
|
| The boy with no wings
|
| So he’s learned how to run
|
| I hope you keep out of danger now
|
| Stranger to stranger
|
| It’s lonely, but only at night
|
| But most of the time I’m breathing fine
|
| Most of the time I’m breathing fine
|
| But breathing is fine,
|
| most of the time |