Monday, May 01, 2006

The Insomniac (Family Unit, Voice 3).

I glance over at your side of the bed:
empty,... you're still not here;
a collision of thoughts run through my head,
not the least of which is blinding fear.

I'm just not ready to be a dad,
how can you want me as i am?
Forget the good times that we had;
i'm too young and selfish to give a damn!

We can't make the huge mistake
of bringing a child into this life;
i lie in our bed, wide awake,
and, for a second, picture you as my wife.

No! this is not who i'm meant to be!
i'm a one man island, bloody Ibiza!
i've got the passport to all i want to see
now you're trying to revoke my visa.

A bottle of pills couldnt bring me rest,
not when i know i've done the things i did;
it's clear now but who'd have guessed
that deep down, i'm still just a kid?

I wish i'd said something to put you at ease,
this must be a lonely hell for you,
instead i acted like you'd caught some disease;
i just didnt know what to do.

Maybe we could somehow make this work
if it's not too late to set things straight;
i wish i hadnt been such a jerk,
all i can do now is lie here and wait.

I trace the line where you'd place your head,
say my prayers and hope for sleep;
glancing at your empty side of the bed,
i lie awake all night, counting sheep.

1 comment:

ish said...

p.s. Ibiza and visa don't rhyme, it's pronounced Ibi-tha... so u watched "about a boy", eh?