I can hardly move and I sure can't groove And I can hardly see why I'm so afraid And the days are long, I can't get rid of what's wrong It's plain to see but the problem is, is, is in me I wish I were a singer, a dancer Dancing for your love Am I somewhere in the middle? Do I count at being special? Is there a sincerity in anything I say? Do I know what anything means? Can I, can I see? I listen to the radio Not music but the talk shows I watch a lot of PBS and BBC I don't want to meet the press I'm scared, I'm scared, I'm scared of what I see The only thing I recognize Is the pain in my side The hunger that I feel Is the only thing, the only thing that is real I wish I were a singer, a dancer Dancing for your love