The Writer

You wait for a silence I wait for a word Lying next to your frame Girl unobserved You change your position And you're changing me Casting these shadows Where they shouldn't be We're interrupted By the heat of the sun Trying to prevent What's already begun Oh, you're just a body I can smell your skin And when we feel it You're wearing thin Oh, but I've got a plan And why don't you be the artist And make me out of clay? Why don't you be the writer And decide the words I say? 'Cause I'd rather pretend I'll still be there at the end Only it's too hard to ask Won't you try to help me? Sat on your sofa It's all broken springs This isn't the place for Those violin strings Oh, I try out a smile And I aim it at you Oh, you must have missed it You always do Oh, but I've got a plan And why don't you be the artist And make me out of clay? Oh, why don't you be the writer And decide the words I say? 'Cause I'd rather pretend I'll still be there at the end Only it's too... You wait I wait Casting shadows Interrupted You wait I wait Casting shadows Interrupted You wait I wait Casting shadows Interrupted You wait I wait Casting shadows Why don't you be the artist And make me out of clay? Why don't you be the writer And decide the words I say? 'Cause I'd rather pretend I'll still be there at the end Only it's too... Why don't you be the artist And make me out of clay? Why don't you be the writer And decide the words I say? 'Cause I'd rather pretend I'll still be there at the end Only it's too hard to ask Won't you try to help me?