he was a jazzman

i see you gripping tight to the rails of your hospital bed

you move so slow

you say the pain you feel is too great to be inside your head

i know

i know

you move so slow

yeah

it don't mean anything to me

we start to die when we begin to breathe

but i'll keep scratching at your sympathy

i'll wander these white halls

scale all the walls for a thread of hope

wrap it around myself

and cross my fingers i don't choke

i'd pray if it meant anything to me

one day i'll die and finally see

what all the fuss is about

prepare yourself for the big sleep

it don't mean anything to me

we start to die when we begin to breathe

but i'll keep scratching at your sympathy

until you're good and ready to leave

until you feel a lot like me

yeah

with curved eyes

i smile

as a bad excuse sits next to you

grinning crooked teeth

they'll all be gone soon

as the door handle swings

i'm having trouble hearing you

you think i'm crazy

don't you?

count your bones and clean 'em good

it's come to this

just like we knew it would

we knew it would

we knew it would

the world's become a hospital

will someone medicate us please?

i'd pray if it meant anything to me

one day i'll die and finally see

what all the fuss is about

prepare yourself for the big sleep

it don't mean anything to me

we start to die when we begin to breathe

yeah

gotta count your bones and clean 'em good

it's come to this just like we knew it would

yeah

it don't mean anything to me

we start to die when we begin to breathe

yeah