From the recording Mr. Gibson Scores Again
Nine minutes from now
You'll be sitting here saying, "I should be getting down"
And getting nothing done
You'll still believe that the answer will come
Looking for you, specifically,
Like some census-taker with a mission and a decree
"That's not jazz," you say and turn the tune up and tap the time away
Oh, St. John, can you help me?
I'm so lost and I can't see
Thought it was over, but it's just getting worse
Is there an end to this curse?
I'd have thought it a phase
If I had been able to get up on the 9th day and walk outside
Is it better to view the simple things that people do
Or close my eyes and try to hide?
I have watched the sun set and divide the sky
Into what I can and cannot have
Tell me why I should not cry
Oh, St. John, can you heal me?
I'm so afraid
Do you feel me?
I try to behave like I'm all that I need
Please give me something to breathe
Oh, St. John, who could save me?
Am I in need, or just lazy?
I like to believe there's a reason to exist
©2001 A. Ray. Annabel Is Her Mother Today (ASCAP).