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I told Althea I was feeling lost 
Lacking in some direction 
Althea told me upon scrutiny 
That my back might need protection 
I told Althea that treachery 
Was tearing me limb from limb 
Althea told me, now cool down boy 
Settle back easy, Jim 

You may be Saturday's child all grown 
Moving with a pinch of grace 
You may be a clown in the burial ground 
Or just another pretty face 
You may be the fate of Ophelia 
Sleeping and perchance to dream 
Honest to the point of recklessness 
Self-centred to the extreme 

Ain't nobody messin' with you but you 
Your friends are getting most concerned 
Loose with the truth, maybe its your fire 
Baby I hope you don't get burned 
When the smoke has cleared, she said 
That's what she said to me 
You're gonna want a bed to lay your head 
And a little sympathy 

There are things you can replace 
And others you cannot 
The time has come to weigh those things 
This space is gettin' hot 
You know this space is gettin' hot 

I told Althea, I'm a roving sign 
That I was born to be a bachelor 
Althea told me, OK that's fine 
So now I'm trying to catch her 
Can't talk to you without talking to me 
We're guilty of the same old things 
Thinking a lot about less and less 
And forgetting the love we bring

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