Staring at the dark again, you left your silhouette upon my pillow
Right inside the night, I’m waiting for the light, seems like
I’m in the middle
Workin for something that I can’t touch and sometimes
can’t even believe in – woh
Cradled by the hands of fate the faith that
sometimes wraps around too tight – so tight
They call me free – But I call me a fool
They call me free – But I call me a fool
Well I look back at April, but she won’t look back at me
No, no, no
So I pray in May for June to stay, but she just came
to wash into the sea – away
They call me free – But I call me a fool
Slipped down to Mexico, started messin with her yellow afro
Slipped down behind the sheets, started talkin bout Pistol Pete
Slipped down to the African, started talkin bout what she can do
Well here we are again, back where we started
Slipped down to the dark again
You left your silhouette on my pillow – hey
Well I’m right inside the night, I’m waitin for the light
Seems like I’m in the, seems like I’m always in the middle
They call me free – But I call me a fool.
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