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These hammers and strings Been following me around From a box-filled garage To the dark punk rock clubs Of one thousand American towns And my friend calls me up She says, "How have you been?" I say, "Dear I've been well Yeah the money's come in But I miss you like hell I still hear you in this old piano" She says, "Andy, I know That we don't talk as much But I still hear your ghost In these old punk rock clubs Come on, write me a song Give me something to trust Just promise you won't let it be Just the keys that you touch"
"Give me something to believe in A breath from the breathing So write it down I don't think that I'll close my eyes 'Cause lately I'm not dreaming So what's the point in sleeping? It's just that at night, I've got nowhere to hide" So I write you a lullaby
These hammers and strings Been following me around Behind passenger vans Through the snow, dirt, and sands Of one thousand American towns And my friend calls me up With her heart heavy still She says, "Andy, the doctors Prescribed me the pills. But I know I'm not crazy I just lost my will. So why am I, why am I Taking them still?"
"I need something to believe in A breath from the breathing So write it down, I don't think that I'll close my eyes 'Cause lately I'm not dreaming So what's the point in sleeping? It's just that at night I've got nowhere to hide"
To the sleepless, this is my reply: I will write you a lullaby