Feels Like Living

I landed on the runway in Chicago

Bought a coffee then I traded it for a beer

And the connecting flight to Austin felt like

Nothing

I’m gonna give this place the best part of a year.

The woman at the motel is hard of hearing

She doesn’t understand the way I speak

So I straighten out my accent, and give her every last cent

Said, “I need a room to see me through the week”

I’m hungry but the works not coming easy

I’m tired, except for when I’m not awake

I put on my shirt and tie, tell myself another lie

“No, you’re not gonna miss another lucky break”

I wake up early every morning

And fill the day with useful things to do

But the only time it ever feels like living

Is when I’m down beneath the surface with you

When I’m running from the ruckus, hiding from the circus, down beneath the surface with you.

My show last night was wrapped up by 11

There was eleven people breathing in that air

Two who knew my name, two just watched the game, seven drowning sorrow with despair.

These Sunday nights are killing me so slowly

Chasing down that runaway thrill

Sometimes trying to play the game feels like trying to find a vein

I’m sick and tired of pushing water up this hill

But still I wake up early every morning

And fill the day with useful things to do

But the only time it ever feels like living

Is when I’m down beneath the surface with you

When I’m running from the ruckus, hiding from the circus, down beneath the surface with you.

When I’m running from the ruckus, hiding from the circus, down beneath the surface with you.