I don't talk much to strangers
Not that they hear me anyway
I'll open up when I'm ready
'Til then I've got nothing to say
I want to get old with my friends
Take our kids to Little League
I might be someone's uncle
To look at me you'd never think
I used to want to write novels
Like Vonnegut and Kerouac
Sometimes I miss that feeling
Seeing my life in paperback
I'm a east coast New England boy
My heart might be lost in the pines
Maybe a bird got a hold of it
To what end, I'll never find