I told Althea I was feeling lost
Lacking in some direction
Althea told me upon scrutiny
My back might need protection

I told Althea that treachery
Was tearing me limb from limb
Althea told me, “Now cool down, boy
Settle back. Easy, Jim.”

You may be Saturday’s child all-grown
Moving with a pinch of grace
You may be a clown in the burying ground
Or just another pretty face

You may be the fate of Ophelia
Sleeping and perchance to dream –
Honest to the point of recklessness
Self centered to the extreme

Ain’t nobody messin’ with you but you
Your friends are getting most concerned
Loose with the truth
Maybe, it’s your fire
But, baby… don’t get burned

When the smoke has cleared, she said—
That’s what she said to me:
You’re gonna want a bed to lay your head
And a little sympathy

There are things you can replace
And others you cannot
The time has come to weigh those things
This space is getting hot
You know this space is getting hot

I told Althea
I’m a roving sign
That I was born to be a bachelor
Althea told me, “OK. That’s fine.”
So now I’m out trying to catch her

Can’t talk to you without talking to me
We’re guilty of the same old thing
Talking a lot about less and less
And forgetting the love we bring