Tell me if this is making no sense
I wrote this when nothing was right
when clock towers were swimming backwards
and the sun, and the moon forgot to shine

Maybe you could hear me if I learned how to write
hot air balloons and lullabies fishing in the sky
if you reach out and catch one, they will take you, you’ll see
but, they tell me it’s all imaginary
they tell me it’s all make believe

I must have a fever, could this be in my head?
I know her autumn lasts longer than this one did
packing up my bags and leaving this town
these butterflies around my head are more than just a crown

Maybe you could hear me if I telegraphed from there
this place in the clouds cannot be just to me
but I know if I tried, you would never let me be
you would be stumbling on the doorstep
trying to make sense of this scene
so, maybe you’re right
maybe this is all make believe