When i want to misbehave I think about my mothers grave And the book on how to change Wasn't written in one day If i had to rearrange The messages they take their shape Like photographs taken from The book on how to change You are an anchor, holding Holding me under I don't have that memory Waking from the deepest sleep The difference between life and dream I thought i heard your voice It was just the tv screen So on the brightest clear blue day A boomerang, an aeroplane Suddenly wanting to negotiate You are an anchor, holding Holding me under I don't have that memory No i don't have that memory No i don't have that memory No i don't have that ♪ You can't survive on milk alone Or carving mirrors out of stone I thought i heard your voice It was just the telephone So when i want to feel misplaced I think about my mother's face And the book on how to change Never taught me anything