Imaginary Friend

(álbum: Under These Rocks And Stones - 1997)

It scares me to speak my mind
It might sound self-absorbed
I don't say half of what I think
I wonder what I'm thinking for

I'm smelling dead flowers
And listening to the walls again
I'm drinking from a leaky faucet
And writing with this dried up pen

Wish I still had my imaginary friend

And who needs to listen, well ...
What do I have to sell
Everyone's just waiting for their own turn
Kinda like show and tell

I'm smelling dead flowers
And listening to the walls again
I'm drinking from a leaky faucet
And writing with this dried up pen

Wish I still had my imaginary friend
Wish I still had my imaginary friend

Someone to listen, someone to laugh
Someone to cry at the right time

I'm smelling dead flowers
And listening to the walls again
I'm drinking from a leaky faucet
And writing with this dried up pen
You know that I'm smelling dead flowers
And listening to the walls
Drinking from a leaky faucet
And writing with this dried up pen

Wish I still had my imaginary friend
Wish I still had my imaginary friend

And I would call him up
But I don't remember his name