Texty:
A Day At The Fair The Rocking Chair Years

I was a superstar at everything, And one by one I gave up all the rest, I made a dream or two at best, And then I broke one bone and bruised the rest

I fear (there's things I fear) that scare me to death, I've got a lot of fears, I'll never fight until they bring me, Down for the count, I'm living in a

time the treehouse built fell on the lawn, We sat and heard the first of songs, That every rocking chair and shoebox would create, It's a world that's

any of them, I've got your letters stored, And space to fill, I've got a box I never threw away, and probably never will, I won't say your name without a

I leave your keys there, on the nightstand, And lock the door so I can't walk in, And make sense of this, There's no sense to this, When I break a window

you, Well I want so much, Well I don't get to sleep tonight, You don't get to dream, There's a place in life where people fit, And we are not a part

I wake and I hide, I choke till it soaks into all these anxious fits, and agoraphobic dreams of happiness, I feel claustrophobic thinking, That my skin is a

When you get drunk and call again, And I can't sit here listening to how bad you want to pave the way, To drink yourself like Hemingway, So you can make a

time) Through time zones and city lines, And these days are long but new, And I share them next to you, The postcards and mail that needs sending, I'm forgetting to send them at