Working Titles

You could mess up my life in a poem Have me divorced by the time of the chorus There's no need to change any sentence When you always decide where I go next Many nights you would hide from the audience When they were not in tune with your progress In the end you're a fool like the journalist Who turns what you sing into business You could use to be more like a hero A darker shade of damage distortion Wearing death like a cape or a costume Cut your ties and leave town when you want to Killing time 'til I pass through the chamber Or the room you keep my replacement So fed up, still you're starving on paper You're no him, but he's you, only better Leave me an exit to damage I could use a ledge to jump off of I wasn't lying when I said this was over I have questions that lead to more questions Running time that will cut off my fingers You wrote about me on every new record And I'll show up in a title of your song I only hope somebody requests it What's it like for you in Washington I've only seen photos of Washington I'll never know Leave me Manhattan, I want the evergreens Write me a song I can sing in my sleep As sure as the rain that will fall where you stand I want you and the skyline These are my demands What's it like for you in Washington I've only seen photos of Washington I'll never know, know