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de Albert Hay Malotte

Sometimes I'm invisible I'm nowhere to be seen
Kicked like a tin can into the shape of a man
Trying so hard to break in so I can burst out
Perspectives ever changing leaving me in doubt
I've got a chronic disorder I'm balanced between
The edge of a razor trying to cut clean
Got my eyes on the road trying to keep steady
Got my hands on the wheel
I feel I'm nearly ready

Hope that's me who's dreaming and that's not me who's screaming
Want to wake up warm and not tattered and torn
Still for all the killing there's nobody winning
Want to spit it out want to scream and shout
Lying in the gutter I heard someone mutter
Creeping the shadows trying to get home
Like the swing and the see- saw hard to keep steady
But with some rearranging
I feel I'm nearly ready

Sometimes I'm invisible I'm nowhere to be seen
Kicked like a tin can into a Sugar Ray man
Hope that's me who's dreaming and that's not me who's screaming
Want to wake up warm and not tattered and torn

Lying in the gutter I heard someone mutter
Creeping the shadows trying to get home
Got my eyes on the road trying to keep steady
Got my hands on the wheel
I feel I'm nearly ready

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