I worry about dying alone On the other side of conversation, On the phone With a telemarketer Who can't wait to get home I worry about losing my mind Talking to myself Asking for time With a blank agenda And no one to lend a hand But I know I've got people to love me And will go whenever time wants me I consider myself to be pretty lucky Don't you? But I know I've got people to love me And I will go to whatever town calls me Just help me get this paranoia out of my head