It's not that I don't like you, you know.
No, it's not that.
Are you ready for my excuse?
Well, here it is, although mingled with truth.
Some days, I'm out of my own control, you know.
I wake up but don't get up,
My sheets and mind hold me,
I don't want to go.
It's not that you annoy me, you know.
But on alternate mornings
That's what it seems.
Hear my cliche:
"It's not you - it's me."
But only those, 'in the know', can know, you know.
You are on the outskirts
Of my dark tousled hair
You look into my eyes, only to realise
There is nothing there.
Once the night has taken me
I sleep without sound
But then in the morning
My feet won't touch the ground.
You can't understand, no matter how hard you try.
I know it frustrates you and brings a tear to the eye.
You don't want to blame me but I know that you do.
But you don't feel this thing that's bluer than blue.
I can't explain it, you know.
That was my poor attempt to try.
Just look at it like this. I try to stand up
But my limbs turn to stone
Following in the footsteps of my heart.