Martha Wainwright

I can hardly move
And I sure can't groove
I can hardly see why I'm so afraid

The days are long
I can't get rid of what's wrong
It's plain to see that the problem is in me

I wish I were a singer
A dancer
Dancing for your love

I must seem a little bit odd
Do I count as anything special
Is there sincerity in anything I say
Do I know what anything means?
Can I see?

I listen to the radio
Not music, but the talk shows
I watch a lot of PBS & BBC
I don't want to "Meet the Press"
I'm scared of what I see

The only thing I recognize
Is this pain in my side
The hunger that I feel
Is the only thing
The only thing that is real

I wish I were a singer
A dancer
Dancing for your love

Oooh...
Ah...

Doo doo doo...