_______________________________________Ooden Jerk_____________________________________ 
 |                                                                                      |
 |                                                                                      |
 |                                                                                      |
 |                       Was open                                                       |
 |                       Is closed                                                      |
 |                                                                                      |
 |                       The exit signs                                                 |
 |                       Are lighting up my life                                        |
 |                       For the second time                                            |
 |                       I’m in transition again                                        |
 |                       Last time I lost                                               |
 |                       It may be this time                                            |
 |                       I’ll win                                                       |
 |                                                                                      |
 |                       Waiting to move                                                |
 |                       Or moving to wait                                              |
 |                                                                                      |
 |                       Now it’s a book                                                |
 |                       Now it’s a plane                                               |
 |                       Now it’s at peace                                              |
 |                       Aware away again                                               |
 |                                                                                      |
 |                       There’s so much                                                |
 |                       That I can’t touch                                             |
 |                       When everything                                                |
 |                       Surrounds me                                                   |
 |                                                                                      |
 |                       Floral apple blossom bloom                                     |
 |                       On Candide orange county woods                                 |
 |                       Turn them from their moulds                                    |
 |                       But the shells too thin                                        |
 |                       Look pretty good                                               |
 |                       But they always cave in                                        |
 |                                                                                      |
 |                       Things to do                                                   |
 |                       Things to see                                                  |
 |                       Places to go                                                   |
 |                       People to be                                                   |
 |                       I’m spinning around                                            |
 |                       On my back                                                     |
 |                       Out-stare frightened people                                    |
 |                       Such a little affair                                           |
 |                                                                                      |
 |                       In the cold light of day                                       |
 |                       Everything’s changed                                           |
 |                       My critical mind                                               |
 |                       My critical mind                                               |
 |                                                                                      |
 |                       Hidden keyholes                                                |
 |                       For hiding places                                              |
 |                       Deepened passing                                               |
 |                       Darkened spaces                                                |
 |                       Behind the sofa                                                |
 |                       In a misty hollow                                              |
 |                       Stemmed with dreams                                            |
 |                       I die and go to sleep                                          |
 |                       I can’t stay long                                              |
 |                       But it feels like home                                         |
 |                                                                                      |
 |                       Was open                                                       |
 |                       Is closed                                                      |
 |                       This is the first song                                         |
 |                       I ever wrote                                                   |
 |                                                                                      |
 |                                                                                      |
 |______________________________________________________________________________________|