When my eyes got used to the dark  there wasn't much to see  the inside of my head is not the museum that it should be  it's as if i didn't know my own song  but it seems familiar, and i try to play along  when the string goes slack and then springs right back    and i forget  i forget  it must have rained for my face to be so wet  unless something happened somewhere that i forget    there was a fire somewhere off the road  and i knew because i saw the smoke  and my eyes don't lie to me, at least i think they don't  there's a cure for everything  and we might need them all  we need dramamine for traveling  and valium for the funeral    and i forget...    these moments only last for so long  so so long and so on  and may we all remember how these moments feel after they're gone  and by the time that we all wake up, in wherever that might be  all the fine things we did the nights before  will be some kind of memory    and i forget...