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I'm sick of all these dead dreams, Janey;they're just piling up like autumn leavesand one of these days they're gonna drag me down with them.I'm bored of all these people 'round me;they save their kind words for rainy days,line their hearts with venom so nothing can get in or out.You're a ghost, you're a ghost, you're a ghost, darling,you're a ghost, you're a ghost in my dreams.I'm sick of all these mornings, Janey,I can't keep up with the worst ones;I wish I knew a better way than drinking to numb this pain.I've got pockets full of letters for youones in which I eloquently explainwhy you'll be the death of me, I hope you don't see. From Letras Mania