| There’s a light inside my head
|
| Flickering but almost dead
|
| My will to be awake
|
| Covered in two tons of sand
|
| More weighed down than when I began
|
| Impossible to get up now, it’s too late
|
| And I feel like moving on
|
| And I feel like getting on with life
|
| To feel the presence of the sun on my face
|
| Is what I need to smack those cobwebs into shape
|
| My room is an empty cave
|
| Darkness swallows up the day
|
| The shades are always drawn
|
| Skin as pale as dirty soap
|
| Eyes that do nothing but close
|
| Can’t even see that my love of life is gone
|
| And I feel like moving on
|
| And I feel like getting on with life
|
| To feel the presence of the sun on my face
|
| Is what I need to smack those cobwebs into shape
|
| Oh, outside my bed it’s cold
|
| Each day I’m swimming through molasses
|
| How will I wipe the sawdust from my eyes?
|
| Each day I’m swimming through molasses
|
| Oh, outside my bed it’s cold
|
| Each day I’m swimming through molasses
|
| How will I wipe the sawdust from my eyes?
|
| Each day I’m swimming through molasses
|
| Covered in two tons of sand
|
| More weighed down than when I began
|
| Impossible to get up now, it’s too late
|
| And I feel like moving on
|
| And I feel like getting on with life
|
| To feel the presence of the sun on my face
|
| Is what I need to smack those cobwebs into shape
|
| Oh, outside my bed it’s cold
|
| Each day I’m swimming through molasses
|
| How will I wipe the sawdust from my eyes?
|
| Each day I’m swimming through molasses |