All day, staring at the ceiling, making friends with shadows on my wall. All night, hearing voices telling me that I should get some sleep because tomorrow might be good for something.
Hold on. I’m feeling like I’m heading for a breakdown. And I don’t know why.
I’m talking to myself in public, dodging glances on the train. I know, I know they’ve all been talking about me. I can hear them whisper, and it makes me feel that must be something wrong with me. Out of all the hours thinking, somehow I’ve lost my mind.
But I’m not crazy, I’m just a little unwell. I know, right now you can’t tell. But stay a while, and maybe then you’ll see a different side of me. I’m not crazy, I’m just a little impaired. I know, right now you don’t care. But soon enough you’re gonna think of me, and how I used to be me.
Thanks forRob Thomas.