Though you say that you ring me up just to talk as a friend
I can't help thinking there's got to be more
And even your voice starts a journey back to a place so familiar and warming
I'm always engaged
You're the only one ringing
When I go to the pictures I always expect to see you at the front
Are you still trying to get on the screen?
And even your voice is around me, laughing out loud at the words on the TV
You're still judging me; now through the canned laughter
Don't wait for the surgery
You shouldn't try to rely on me
Doctor!
Heal yourself
Take the knife, don't you understand: you're the one with the healing hands
You've got to heal yourself
Summer turned into winter
The blustering storms tap their theme on my window, serenading me now
I'm so tired of their tune
West wind!
Find me a place where there's nothing to hide from
So little time
So many journeys
Better send for the grindstone and sharpen the blade on old Solomon's knife
The dagger poised, now make your peace
Sometimes the surgeon runs wailing, screaming and bloody, away from the theatre
You may hurt now, but the wounds are all healing
Don't wait for the surgery
You shouldn't try to rely on me
Doctor!
Heal yourself
Take the knife, don't you understand: you're the one with the healing hands
You've got to heal yourself