For all this trying I've been losing perspective Feel like staring up with you from the cold hood of your car If it was deeper and the bottle less effective I'd take you back to the places where you're not alone For all my talk about a higher perception I still think about you in the shower without a song It seems to be that all my suffering's elected Either I don't understand or it's a problem for everyone Dead on the curb Red in the face Waiting up for God in the back alley of your place Talk to me about it and tomorrow I'll forget again Find someone to love until everything's okay All this time and I don't have it perfected From the window in your room, playing shortstop, I rattle on Between the reasons, even moments, of contention Where we fit in one drink, and talk about things I forget With my head in the clouds Wide open space Waiting up for God in the back alley of your place Talk to me about it and tomorrow I'll forget again Dead on the curb Red in the face Oh, can you tell me everything's okay Head in the clouds Wide open space Man, I pick it up slow I'm not sure what's expected Might be feeling just a little too free, honey Don't know what I intended Man, I pick it up slow (yeah come around, yeah come around) I'm not sure what's expected By the evening if it's light enough Please (yeah come around, yeah come around) Leave the song open ended Wringing out this American dream Over the white wings of England Yeah come around, yeah come around And finally talk about something you care about Like a boxer pulling out (yeah come around, yeah come around) We can finally talk about something you care about (Yeah come around, yeah come around) (Something you care about)