| Lyrics: | I told Althea I was feeling lost, lacking in some direction.
Althea told me upon scrutiny that
my back might need protection.
I told Althea that treachery was tearing me limb from
limb.
Althea told me better cool down boy, settle back, easy Jim.
You may be
Saturday's child, all alone, moving with a tinge of grace.
You may be a clown in the burying
ground, or just another pretty face.
You may meet the fate on Ophelia, sleeping and penchence
to dream.
Honest to the point of recklessness, self-centered in the extreme.
Ain't
nobody messing with you, but you, your friends are getting most concerned.
Loose with the
truth, baby, it's your fire, but baby don't get burned.
When the smoke has cleared, she said,
that's what she said to me.
Gonna want a bed to lay your head and a little
sympathy.
There are things you can replace, and others you cannot.
The time has come
to weigh those things.
This space is getting hot, you know this space is getting
hot.
I told Althea I'm a roving son, and I was born to be a bachelor.
Althea told
me, okay, that's fine, so now I'm trying to catch her.
Can't talk to you without talking to me,
we're guilty of the same old thing.
Been talking alot about less and less and forgetting the
love we bring |
