Third Week in the Chelsea

Sometimes I feel like i am leaving life behind My hands are moving faster than the movement of my mind Thoughts and generations of my dreams are yet unborn So we go on moving trying to make this image real I hope that I will find them 'fore my moving gets too worn Straining every nerve not knowing what we really feel If only I could live to see the dawning of the dawn Straining every nerve ending and everybody sees That what they read in the Rolling Stone has really come to be And trying to avoid a taste of that reality Showed to me a face I didn't know at all On an early New York mornin' a mirror in the hall When I looked into the mouth there was nothing left inside Lines were drawn around a pair of eyes that opened wide So I walked into the little room and whistled like a sigh As dawn light closed around me my head was still in gear Thinking thoughts of playing more and singing loud and clear Trying to reach a friend somewhere and make that person smile Maybe pull myself away from that old lonesome mile That often comes to haunt me in the morning All my friends keep telling me that it would be a shame To break up such a grand success and tear apart a name Emptiness ain't where it's at and neither's feeling pain Time is getting late now and the sun is getting low But all I know is what I feel whenever I'm not playin' Well now what is going to happen now is anybody's guess If I can't spend my time with love I guess I need a rest And sunshine's waiting for me a little further down the roadMy body's getting tired of carryin' another's load