Through cloudy eyes I can see the distant signs of what used to beThe signs of joy disappear in the sighs of futilityAnd in my mind all my pretty paper dreams have flowedIn city streets are the sights and the sounds of activityThe bustling crowds on the supper-minded ways never notice meHow can I be free?How can I find all my pretty paper dreams alone?Oh babyHelp meOh babyHelp meHelp meOh babyHelp meHelp meOh babyHelp meOh babyHelp meOh babyHelp meHelp meHelp me