I'm just like you
I've got a heart and a head and I've lost too
many great ideas to the world of what could have been
I still don't know what makes me happy, and I hope you have heard
But I'm falling off the bridge and this dream of ours is for the birds.

Please let me be yours, let me find your weakness
Is it under the covers? behind this bookshelf
filled with Mark Twain and Charles Dickens?
Won't you crawl out your window
climb down the vine
fall into my arms and as we lie
I'll whisper all my dreams into your little ear,
and you won't hear them
you'll be listening to the motorcycle
Across the street.