I'm empty again and I look at my room
and I'm bored to the bones and I'm sad and I smile
I can't really laugh and I can''t really cry.
I think it's this summer that makes me this way
and I think it's these walls
and I just want to say, I'm empty again
and I can't name the cause or the need to find words -
to explain.

This is the noise that I make when I fall
to the ground without making a sound.

These great big buildings are staring at me
and this great big city is staring at me
and I stare right back at these great buildings and say -
I should be ok 'cause its a beatiful city
and the people are kind and its a beutiful city
everything's real and smells like the underground.

This is the noise that I make when I fall
to the ground without making a sound

I got to a taxi, spoke to the driver
says his a poet, plays the guitar
thinks that he's Elvis, thinks he's a star.
He says I've got eyes more or less like a cat,
says I've got lives more or less about nine,
says he believes we're all God's children
in a beutiful city where the people are kind.
this is the noise that I make...

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