Mad Man

Such a pity

That all my lines aren't new

And I'm so giddy

Thinking all these things of you

But what is a liar

if all his lies are true

And he's so perfect

That he cannot be used

I cut out the part

where your face used to be

But I kept the photo

Was a good one of me

You're a mystery

A cling to my past

Because my future seems week

I wrote you those letters

A thousand each week

You're a mystery

To me

Imagination

Is all you'll ever need

In all situations

Of feeling incomplete

You take all my heroes

And burn them all away

Said the mad man

With plenty more to say

I cut out the part

where your face used to be

But I kept the photo

Was a good one of me

You're a mystery

A cling to my past

Because my future seems week

I wrote you those letters

A thousand each week

You're a mystery

To me

You're a mystery

To me