IT FEELS LIKE

As I lay me down As this world turns red
I'm no communist baby
I believe in a king-size bed
She said let's sleep when we're dead

I was rhyming with the timing of Frankie Lyman
And the teenagers crying
The disc jockeys sighing
At the news the king was dying
You know what that feels like

I was down I'd been around
And I was growing sick and tired of this town
The sounds of these clowns
Who keep telling me late at night
They know what it feels like

It feels like...

You were leaving I was grieving all these facts said
I was not achieving I was mistakenly believing
That the smiles on their faces meant they knew
What it feels like

She said how could you ever allow this domesticating plow
This powdered milk cow onto the farm
We grow the things that we feel like

As I lay me down - as this world turns red
I'm no communist baby
I believe in a king-size bed
She said let's sleep when we're dead

It feels like

Even Sigmund Freud would be annoyed
At your fanatical joy
When your brand new toy
Started walking started talking
Started telling you what it feels like

Ah hell I can tell this won't sell
Except to Alexander Graham Bell
The reason is well he loves telephone songs
He knows what they feel like