Through the window he sees children playing in the street He feels bad because he could never be out there It makes him happy to hear someone knocking at his door But it's always the postman or landlord looking for someone else He can't understand why he can never go outside Always looking at the same old pictures, books and faces Something is not right in the way he lives He wants to be like everyone else, but he'll never be He needs a world in that he can be number one With lots of friends and many stories to tell He wants to be loved at least for one day To make up for all those wasted years Talking to himself Since he was born his eyes are open but his soul remains asleep It's hard to believe that the traveler needs to come back home again His selfish pain never satisfies him Just make your bed and call my name carefully I can see how people start to scare him He wants to talk to others but never talks to me He needs a world in that he can be number one With lots of friends and many stories to tell He wants to be loved at least for one day To make up for all those wasted years Talking to himself