Everyday I think like this,

it's like a fever, it's like fever I'm coming down with

hold this shaking hand of mine

like you're part of me

like your actually a part of me

and everyday I think like this

and every reasoned thought reduces to an empty shell

But there's nobody to tell             

that it can't be perfect

that this picture can't be perfect

steal my memories

they are nothing, I could just invent some more

and when I sleep I'll just try waking up

lose some battles win some wars

and in the still of life I feel it pulling from the centre

hear the word and run for cover

some can die before their bodies stop

but I'm still breathing and while I'm breathing

I'd better get up and leave

and when I see my time        

high above the day I die

way too high to stop and care

I still want you there, I still want you there.