Counting Crows

Well, I woke up in mid-afternoon,
'Cause that's when it all hurts the most
I dream I never know anyone at the party,
And I'm always the host
If dreams are like movies,
Then memories are films about ghosts
You can never escape,
You can only move south down the coast
I am an idiot
Walking a tightrope of fortune and fame
I am an acrobat
Swinging trapezes through circles of flame
If you've never stared off into the distance,
Then your life is a shame
Though I'll never forget your face,
Sometimes I can't remember my name
Hey, Mrs. Potter, don't cry
Hey, Mrs. Potter, I know why, but
Hey, Mrs. Potter, won't you talk to me?
There's a piece of Maria,
In every song that I sing
And the price of a memory,
Is the memory of the sorrow it brings
And there is always one last light to turn out,
And one last bell to ring
And the last one out of the circus,
Has to lock up everything
Or the elephants will get out,
And forget to remember what you said
And the ghosts of the tilt-a-whirl,
Will linger inside of your head
Oh, and the ferris wheel junkies
Will spin them forever instead
When I see you a blanket of stars,
Covers me in my bed
Hey, Mrs. Potter, don't go
I said,
Hey, Mrs. Potter, I don't know, but
Hey, Mrs. Potter, won't you talk to me?
All the blue light reflections,
That color my mind when I sleep
And the lovesick rejections,
That accompany the company I keep
All the razor perceptions,
That cut just a little too deep
Hey, I can bleed as well as anyone,
But I need someone to help me sleep
So I throw my hand into the air,
And it swims in the beams
It's just a brief interruption,
Of the swirling dust sparkle jet stream
Well, I know I don't know you,
And you're probably not what you seem
Aw, but I'd sure like to find out
So why don't you climb down off that movie screen?
Hey, Mrs. Potter, don't turn
Hey, Mrs. Potter, I burn for you
Hey, Mrs. Potter, won't you talk to me?
When the last king of Hollywood
Shatters his glass on the floor
And orders another,
Well, I wonder what he did that for
That's when I know that I have to get out,
'Cause I have been there before
So I gave up my seat at the bar,
And I head for the door
We drove out to the desert,
Just to lie down beneath this bowl of stars
We stand up in the Palace
Like it's the last of the great pioneer town bars
Aw, we shout out these songs
Against the clang of electric guitars
Well, you can see a million miles tonight
But you can't get very far
Aw, you can see a million miles tonight
But you can't get very far
Hey, Mrs. Potter, I won't touch, and
Hey, Mrs. Potter, it's not much, but
Hey, Mrs. Potter, won't you talk to me?
Hey, Mrs. Potter, won't you talk to me?
Hey, Mrs. Potter, won't you talk to me?