Staring at the dark again You left your silhouette upon my pillow Right inside the night I'm waiting for the light Seems like I'm in the middle Workin' for something that I can't touch And sometimes can't even believe in...whoa Cradled by the hands of fate The faith that sometimes wraps around too tight So tight They call me free But I call me a fool They call me free But I call me a fool Well I look back at April But she won't look back at me No, no, no So I pray in May for June to stay But she just came to wash into the sea...away They call me free But I call me a fool Slipped down to Mexico Started messin' with her yellow afro Slipped down behind the sheets Started talkin' bout Pistol Pete Slipped down to the African Started talkin' bout what she can do Well here we are again Back where we started Slipped down to the dark again You left your silhouette on my pillow...hey Well I'm right inside the night I'm waitin' for the light Seems like I'm in the Seems like I'm always in the middle They call me free But I call me a fool