There's something weighing on me,
I don't know what it is.
Depression? Loneliness? Lostness?
Longing? Anger? Fear?
I thought I gave up trying to figure it out,
Now I just carry it around,
a monkey on my back.
I'm a hopeless loveless lover
moping about with all my futile
daydreams of romance.
I thought I gave up those adolescent hopes,
Now I just carry it around,
a flower in my pocket.
It's like some old cliche romantic movie,
The hero laying on his couch
alone with wine and jazz.
I don't think I like this flick
Somebody change the channel