Third Week in the Chelsea

Sometimes I feel like I am leaving life behind

My hands are moving faster than the movement of my mind

Thoughts and generations of my dreams are yet unborn

I hope that I will find them 'fore my moving gets too worn

If only I could live to see the dawning of the dawn

So we go on moving trying to make this image real

Straining every nerve not knowing what we really feel

Straining every nerve ending and everybody sees

That what they read in the Rolling Stone has really come to be

And trying to avoid a taste of that reality

On an early New York morning, a mirror in the hall

Showed to me a face I didn't know at all

Lines were drawn around a pair of eyes that opened wide

But when I looked into the mouth I found nothing left inside

So I walked into the little room that whistled like a sigh

As dawn light closed around me, my head was still in gear

Thinking thoughts of playing more and singing loud and clear

Trying to reach a friend somewhere and make that person smile

Maybe pull myself away from that old lonesome mile

That often comes to haunt me in the morning

All my friends keep telling me that it would be a shame

To break up such a grand success and tear apart a name

But all I know is what I feel whenever I'm not playing

Emptiness ain't where it's at, and neither's feeling pain

Well, now what is going to happen now is anybody's guess

If I can't spend my time with love, I guess I need a rest

Time is getting late now and the sun is getting low

My body's getting tired of carrying another's load

And sunshine's waiting for me a little further down the road