Standing by the door
wondering how I could find some more
things are not so bad
I should be glad
I'm not starving
Walking along the street and it's getting cold
tennis shoes on my feet but their full of holes
the wind is at my back and rips my coat
I am sailing
Looking at her letter
she says "Honey, love can make it better."
Ain't it funny, how can I go get her
Never let her know that I'm not bitter
I'm not crying
I could take this heart and take up crime
no self-respect, develop a criminal mind
things are not so bad, I should be glad
I'm not lying