Most days, I'm burning in a fire, I got a cliche cold staring at my world,
These days the bird is on the wire, Two fingers pull a pen, a half drawn picture of a dream,
And here between the writing on the wall, I try to feel forgotten for a while,
And it's hard, and I get angry all the time, But this is not a life I cannot change
But somewhere in the heart of the aftermath, There's an answer for me,
'Cause you could have been anybody on the road to me.
I lovee that song.