I’ll tell you a story – it’s not really true.
And neither am I really tellin it to you
Nobody gets lucky in this part of town,
But everyone pushes their shovels to ground.
The suppertime traffic, like rainforest frogs
The wax on the moon, just refinery smog
And when you look out on that New Jersey night
You’re strong if you make it to day with your sight.
Close your eyes, close your eyes.
It’s not your time to rise.
I sleep in the morning in broad light of day
The shadows in corners, and the night birds at bay
And why I’m so tired, I can’t really say
The edge of the bed’s getting farther away.
And maybe that clock’s got a new pair of wires?
Their counting goes backwards to a requiem choir
I’ll jump through the thunder, I’ll roll through the fire
It’s better than laying with all these empty desires.
What do I want from this life?
I am a failure – a useless device.
Don’t tell her you love her before you escape
Don’t fake it with laughter, or a lingering embrace
Don’t step on a train car that’s not on a track
This all will make sense when you find that thing that she lacks.
Well I made me a statue – a poem in bronze
And no one can see her so they all just move on
Well, you are in luck, dear, cause I am your one
And I’ll be round this way, when your wandering day’s done
Close your eyes, close your eyes.
It’s not your time to rise.
I’ll tell you what you should do:
Just close your eyes, till someone find you.
The only problem is where does it end?
What hope for the ghosts that your slumber defends?
And who is it steering your nose to the fight?
Your softening heart, or your hardening pride?