Everyday I think like this,
it's like a fever, it's like fever I'm coming down with
hold this shaking hand of mine
like you're part of me
like your actually a part of me
and everyday I think like this
and every reasoned thought reduces to an empty shell
But there's nobody to tell
that it can't be perfect
that this picture can't be perfect
steal my memories
they are nothing, I could just invent some more
and when I sleep I'll just try waking up
lose some battles win some wars
and in the still of life I feel it pulling from the 
centre
hear the word and run for cover
some can die before their bodies stop
but I'm still breathing and while I'm breathing
I'd better get up and leave
and when I see my time
high above the day I die
way too high to stop and care
I still want you there, I still want you there