Do you dream of me
When I’m far away
Do I drift further every day
When i drink my rivers, drag my feet, and drown in my dreams
It’s not as bad as it seems
I am the man on stage slurring your favourite songs.
Making up a few of the words as I go along.
Taking the edge off of me
Is a necessity when I’m singing these words that I no longer mean.
I am not a poet, I’m a broken heart
And though you didn’t dispute it, I don’t really play the part.
I am not dishonest, I’m a lost detail
Leaving out the good words to hide my trail.