Want to make you real
Need to get you out of my head and into my life
Have to do more than stare at you
From across a crowded room
Can't bring myself to actually say what I want
Can't bring myself to feel worth it
Can't bring myself to show you
Just what you've got...on me
It's not the way I'm used to doing things
Direct and straight
I maneuver and manipulate by trade
that's how us frightened types do it
I'm picturing you now, alone in that crowded room
Staring at your keyboard waiting for the words to come
Are you blocked like me?
Are you scared like me?
The shrinks can't get us
And the words aren't saving us
When you go home later will you think about that walk down Broadway?
Or am I off the screen as soon as the elevator door closed?
I sit here typing this stuff up without even looking back
I don't try to make it rhyme
And I don't know what I'm saying
Or where this is taking me
I boast of no form and format
Never wanted to learn the rules
Rules aren't what it's about I say
It's about cutting yourself open and pouring it out
Yeah, that sounds cool but it's just another cop out
If you can't master the little things, your big things will fall
Some can go their own way
I can't, I won't make it.
I've had some question my sanity
What the hell is this you're putting out there, they ask?
It's just what runs through my brain
And if I have to put a lid on that then it won't matter what rules I follow and ignore
This is my way out, and it isn't always pretty and clean
But neither am I