I talk,
but I don't know what I'm saying.
My feet still walk,
but they can't tell north from south.
I keep on talking to avoid the words I'm weighing.
I'm the best at fooling everyone who's around.
I fool myself.
There's a hole in my heart and it's private property.
I think someone stole the vital part.
And the flowers in the yard,
they're just smiling at me.
Showing silence the greatest form of art.
I talk, but I don't know what I'm saying.
I'm out of control,
but my mouth is shut.
My mouth is not.
I wish I was a priest.
I could silently be praying to find the pieces
that can make my mouth shut.
I shut myself.
There's a hole
in my heart
and it's private
property.
I think someone stole the vital part.
And the flowers in the yard,
they're just smiling at me.
Showing silence is the greatest form of art.
Words fall out of my mouth like the pouring rain.
And there's no soul around that can make my tongue lay.
And if my words shouldn't make any sense at all,
I'd still be talking.
And I'm talking to a crowd that gets smaller and smaller.
I watch the news,
but I don't know what it's saying.
So I try to sing a little,
but I don't know the melody.
I'm sure I pay,
but I don't know what bills I'm paying.
So why do all those funny people stare at me?
Stare at yourself.
There's a hole in my heart and it's private property.
I think someone stole the vital part.
And the flowers in the yard,
they're just smiling at me.