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the book on how to change part II
Hand Habits
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When i want to misbehave
I think about my mothers grave
And the book on how to change
Wasn't written in one day
If i had to rearrange
The messages they take their shape
Like photographs taken from
The book on how to change
You are an anchor, holding
Holding me under
I don't have that memory
Waking from the deepest sleep
The difference between life and dream
I thought i heard your voice
It was just the tv screen
So on the brightest clear blue day
A boomerang, an aeroplane
Suddenly wanting to negotiate
You are an anchor, holding
Holding me under
I don't have that memory
No i don't have that memory
No i don't have that memory
No i don't have that
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You can't survive on milk alone
Or carving mirrors out of stone
I thought i heard your voice
It was just the telephone
So when i want to feel misplaced
I think about my mother's face
And the book on how to change
Never taught me anything
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