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Kreviazuk Chantal Under These Rocks And Stones Imaginary Friend It scares me to speak my mind It might sound self-absorbed I don't say half of what I think I wonder what I'm thinkin' for I'm smelling dead flowers Listening to the walls again I'm drinking from a leaky faucet And writing with this dried up pen Wish I still had my imaginary friend And who needs to listen, well What do I have to sell Everyone's just waitin' for their own turn Kind of like show and tell Chorus Someone to listen Someone to laugh Someone to cry at the right times Chorus [x2] And I would call him up But I don't remember his name... |
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