Talking to a mirror
Times are getting rough
Because taking care of business
Has never been enough
When rooms are full of people
I'm always off the cuff
But always moving backwards
I'm running out of luck
We all want looking after,
When the lights start spinning from the sky
and my hands are cold
And I'm all on my own
Write a letter to me
And this world could be much better
I always fly-by-night
I'm a social maladjust
But for now that seems alright
Because its always been enough,
You were always going to go places
And leave me well behind
From one corner of the world
To a corner of my mind,
But will you get what you're after?
If on the fifth day it snows
and its up to my neck and bones
and I can't feel my nose
Write a letter to me
And this world could be much better.