| sleep walking through the all-nite drug store
|
| baptized in fluorescent light
|
| i found religion in the greeting card aisle
|
| now i know hallmark was right
|
| and every pop song on the radio
|
| is suddenly speaking to me art may imitate life
|
| but life imitates t.v.
|
| 'cuz you’ve been gone exactly two weeks
|
| two weeks and three days
|
| and let’s just say that
|
| things look different now
|
| different in so many ways
|
| i used to be a superhero
|
| no one could touch me not even myself
|
| you are like a phone booth
|
| that i somehow stumbled into
|
| and now look at me
|
| i am just like everybody else
|
| if i was dressed in my best defenses
|
| would you agree to meet me for coffee
|
| if i did my tricks with smoke and mirrors
|
| would you still know which one was me if i was naked and screaming
|
| on your front lawn
|
| would you turn on the light and come down
|
| screaming, there’s the asshole
|
| who did this to me stripped me of my power
|
| stripped me down
|
| i used to be a superhero
|
| no one could touch me not even myself
|
| you are like a phone booth
|
| that i somehow stumbled into
|
| and now look at me
|
| i am just like everybody else
|
| yeah you’ve been gone exactly two weeks
|
| two weeks and three days
|
| and now i’m a different person
|
| different in so many ways
|
| tell me what did you like about me and don’t say my strength and daring
|
| 'cuz now i think i’m at your mercy
|
| and it’s my first time for this kind of thing
|
| i used to be a superhero
|
| i would swoop down and save me from myself
|
| but you are like a phone booth
|
| that i somehow stumbled into
|
| and now look at me
|
| i am just like everybody else |