Not So Sure

There was a time
When I heard you
Calling out my name
But these days
I'm not so sure

When the room went dark
And your voice was gone
I heard you all the same
But these days
I'm not so sure

I knew I could remember
Your bedroom and your touch
But these days
I'm not so sure

Definitely was the word I used
Far too much
'Cause these days
I'm not so sure

I bummed expensive cigarettes
I wrote John Steinbeck's books
I undressed someone's daughter
And then complained about her looks

Stealing was so easy then
I wish that it still were
Now as I pick my own pocket
I know that these days
I'm not so sure

The church was my kitchen
The world was my church
But these days
I'm not so sure

To choirs I would listen
Through briers I would search
But these days
I'm not so sure

I sacrificed my sister
I prayed my own soul to keep
I told my dying father
That a man should never weep

Breathing was so easy then
I wish that it still were
Now as the breeze just makes me colder
I know that these days
I'm not so sure

So if you see me tripping
I've forgotten how to walk
And I spend my days
Wishing after her

My steps are without rhythm
And her name is drawn in chalk
'Cause these days
I'm not so sure

I drank my wine for breakfast
Every morning I was born
In the black, electric winter
My back was always warm

Sleeping was so easy then
I wish that it still were
Now in my sleepless bedroom
I know that these days
I'm not so sure