I found a name for the man in my book
It took me years just to write like I should
I write to be busy, I don't need no reward
Just a bearable life and a wide open heart

I chew on my words in the dead of the night
If you want to be honest, you can't be polite
'Cause a writer he must speak without limits or shame
So shame on you if you think you can play

With the facts (with the facts) and the fears (and the fears)
The dreams and illusions, the joy and the tears
With the moon (with the moon) and the sun (and the sun)
The miracles around us, the pleasure and fun

I wrote one book, I lived one life
I fire one gunshot, let no-one survive
Every person is fictitious, both dead or alive
I would never use your name to write

About the facts (about the facts) and the fears (and the fears)
The dreams and illusions, the joy and my tears
And my dad (and my dad) and my mom (and my mom)
And the people I love, they keep me moving on

I close my eyes and it's coming
Raining colours for all
Where the mind goes, man will follow
............................................................................?

When my book is finished, let it float in the cloud
I said some bad things, hope they'll never come out
'Cause I write for no reader - I write for myself
Just look at all those books on my shelf

About the facts (about the facts) and the fears (and the fears)
The dreams and illusions, the joy and the tears
And my dad (and my dad) and my mom (and my mom)
And the people I love, they keep me moving on