This is my heart and this is how it reads.
For every book, a thousand memories.
It cuts like a knife as everybody bleeds
Books, a poet, a mystery is what I need
Yeah, that\'s what I need, it\'s how I feed.
I wrote a diary since 1982
I\'ve met funny people, but none quite like you
Diary entry in school 96 end of May
And it looks as if though I\'m here to stay
Yes, I\'m in order in my own way.
And if my heart starts a-knockin\' and I die
This is my aching heart and this is how it reads
The books I keep writing gone with a breeze
If I feel broken-hearted then that\'s how I feel
I lay down before you, I\'ll lay done to kneel.
And when the ship starts sailing I\'ll let loose
Walk a plank of wood or rather use a noose
And when my heart starts a beatin I\'ll choose
Not to be a failure so I\'m sorry for that news
I don\'t want to think of how I\'ll lose, how I\'ll lose.
Searching for the stars I wondered up above
Every chapter Albert and Steptoe and love
Took a chance upon an old horse and cart
Faulty towers with Manual playing his part
Write against the wall which almost fell apart.
Diary entry 97 when Diana died
They wrote books about her, but everybody lied
Emotionally broken-hearted and everybody cried
With her flowers at her gate in Kensington Palace
She was flown from France and landed at last.
This is my way and this is how it goes
If you don\'t know then nobody knows
And if you think I\'ll just stop right here
Diary entry number 3 in this last year