Tekster: Welbilt. Dilemma.

Am I just too condescending?
Or is it all depending
On what I say or the notes I play
Or what side of the bed I woke up on today

Is it a realization
Or just my imagination
I'm not home I'm drinking alone
And I just don't want
To pick up the telephone
There's no answer
If this is gonna

Run round in my head
Turn out the lights, just put me back to sleep
If I'm better off dead
I'd rather have a prayer than a front row seat
I can't recall
(I can't recall)
The last time that my mind had
Any extra space at all

Was that an innuendo?
A subtle decrescendo
To a big mistake, one that I can't make
Can't keep track of how many hearts I'm gonna break

Was I talking to fast?
Should I decide to look past
The little things still lingering
Like how many times I have to repeat everything
There's no answer
If this is gonna

Run round in my head
Turn out the lights, just put me back to sleep
If I'm better off dead
I'd rather have a prayer than a front row seat
I can't recall
(I can't recall)
The last time that my mind had
Any extra space at all

Should I keep my door closed?
Or open all the windows
Raise my cup up to what's enough
And fill another glass of
Shut the hell up

Run round in my head
(Run round in my head)
Turn out the lights, just put me back to sleep
Run round in my head
(Run round in my head)
Run around in my head
Turn out the lights, just put me back to sleep