I Don't Know You

Take all of your photographs.

Throw them into the fire.

And find all of your mirrors

And take them too.

And shake off the dust and the dirt.

Clean your hands and your faces.

And hold back your tears until its through.

Cause' the photographs I’ve taken only blur the faces out,

And my mind can’t seem to hold onto anyone.

And If I hold my hand out to the people that I’ve met

do they hesitate to touch me?

Is it all just in my head?

But I don’t think so,

And I don’t think at all.

And I don’t know you,

But I don’t know anyone.

Take all of my oxygen.

Take my lungs and my insides.

And find all of my teeth you can have them too.

Cause' the only words I’ve spoken are to get me back to bed

And my hands can’t seem to hold on to anyone.

And If I close my eyelids for a moment I could rest.

But am I listening for my heartbeat?

Is there something in my chest?

But I don’t think so,

And I don’t think at all.

And I don’t know you,

But I don’t know anyone.

And your eyes weren’t open,

But you’re already there.

And your eyes weren't open

But you're already there.

Sweet thing your eyes are too tired.

Believe me you don’t want to see the world,

the world outside.

I could take your picture now,

Or I could leave you out

And we could stay right here.

We could paint a picture now,

Or we could turn it into something else right here.