The Days

When I wake up from this dream
Who will be there?
When I finally find the words
Who will call?

When I fill my time inside a machine
Will I find it at all?

When I wake up from this dream
Who will know me?
Will I know then 
What to do with all this shame?

So light a candle for the years anyway
But I can't feel the days. 

(Pass anymore)

See me in the light beside the bed I was born. 
Air through my ventricles. 

A mistake or a miracle. 

And honest I'll be fine if it were true either way. 
If I could just feel the days.  

Casa Nova's looking good and now she's famous.
She's got that carelessness that only looks can buy
And in a room filled with vague accolades, 
She can't feel the days.