Third Week in the Chelsea

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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
for 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
When I looked into the mouth
there was nothing left inside
So I walked into the little room
and 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