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I set my hand to writing you... it drifted off the page.
I sold my one vision for a piece of the cake... I haven't ate in days.
For unspoken value, aesthetic, and charm, I'd smile at you sideways,
But the lighting is wrong.
I'm taking a picture, and counting the cost, while the bells in my ears keep ringing.
I set my hand to writing you... it drifted of the page.
I nearly fell, I feel like a lowlife in hell and I haven't slept in days and days, days and days...
Beat on my Fender through my Gemini 2, play to the posters on the wall of my room.
Thought I was crazy when I'd think about you... And the bells in my ears keep ringing.
And the bells in my ears keep ringing.
In my ear bells are ringing.
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