Little Songs

I sing little songs to myself

And try not to think about myself

That's when I get blinded by sound.

I'm so confused when I think about what I'm supposed to be,

And what my friends think of me,

That's something I can never know.

So when I'm recording songs,

The last past takes so long -

That's when I have to make up words.

You can see me write about the world I'm in,

I think about it most of the time,

When I'm walking home at night,

After people turn off all the lights.

Now I play something good at night,

People put up Christmas lights,

The car's parked, and I'm just sneaking around

Outside their house

When they're asleep inside

I run through the bushes and hide

And I see their dishes in the sink.

Pretty soon now, it will snow,

My first snow away from home,

It's cold and I'm bundled up