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