Squeeze — Here Comes That Feeling

Up in the morning Politely yawning There's frost on the roof of the car First cigarette puffs Gold links in my cuffs Egg on the shirt of my heart Fingerprint the dust with my name Squint my eyes to see from my fame Spot the words that fall from my lines The deafness hides the light from the blind Stop starting journey The road returns me Back to the world in the evening The stage rehearsals Voice on the circles Blah blah my way to the ceiling I can't see the walls for the chairs Are there people sitting out there Feed me with a frown or a laugh Featureless the faces that ask Tonight I'm cracking I'm murder acting Footlit the visual of my lines I'll smoke and drink it I'll eat and think it Miserable the murder plot unwinds