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