Looking Over from My Hotel Window

Age 39, looking over from my hotel window

Blue dots and red dots skating away in the park

I used to be there twenty years ago

Huffing over a mug of hot chocolate drink

Age 39, looking over from a hotel window

Wondering if one should jump off or go to sleep

People tell you up is better than down

They never tell you which is up and which is down

Age 39, looking over from a hotel window

95-pound bundle, but it's trouble when there's nowhere to leave

People say stardust and golddust are it

But they never tell you it chokes you just as sawdust does

Age 39, feeling pretty suicidal

The weight gets heavier when you've bled thirty years

Show me your blood, John, and I'll show you mine

They say it's running even when we're asleep

No trace of resentment, no trace of regret

One blood's thinner but both look red and fresh

If I ever die, please go to my daughter

Tell her that she used to haunt me in my dreams

(that's saying a lot for a neurotic like me.)

Age 39, looking over from my hotel window

Trying to tackle away with heart of clay

The weight gets lighter when there's nowhere to turn

God's little dandruff floating in the air

Age 39, looking over the world

Age 39, floating over the world

Age 39,...mm-mm...floating along