When my eyes got used to the dark

there wasn't much to see

the inside of my head is not the museum that it should be

it's as if i didn't know my own song

but it seems familiar, and i try to play along

when the string goes slack and then springs right back



and i forget

i forget

it must have rained for my face to be so wet

unless something happened somewhere that i forget



there was a fire somewhere off the road

and i knew because i saw the smoke

and my eyes don't lie to me, at least i think they don't

there's a cure for everything

and we might need them all

we need dramamine for traveling

and valium for the funeral



and i forget...



these moments only last for so long

so so long and so on

and may we all remember how these moments feel after they're gone

and by the time that we all wake up, in wherever that might be

all the fine things we did the nights before

will be some kind of memory



and i forget...