It Scares Me To Speak My Mind

It Might Sound Self-absorbed

I Don't Say Half Of What I Think

I Wonder What I'm Thinkin' For

I'm Smelling Dead Flowers

Listening To The Walls Again

I'm Drinking From A Leaky Faucet

And Writing With This Dried Up Pen

Wish I Still Had My Imaginary Friend

And Who Needs To Listen, Well

What Do I Have To Sell

Everyone's Just Waitin' For Their Own Turn

Kind Of Like Show And Tell



Chorus

Someone To Listen

Someone To Laugh

Someone To Cry At The Right Times



Chorus [x2]



And I Would Call Him Up

But I Don't Remember His Name...