An Old Scab Songtext
von Crash Test Dummies

I sit each morning
Look at my empty notebook
The room is quiet
The air conditioning sounds like rain falling
Manic depressive
Composer Robert Schumann
When he could not write
Would get down on his knees and he would pray for help
It′s not as bad
As eating your own liver
But still I'd like to think that there are better methods
I try to tackle The page that lay before me
But then I drift off
And think about the concept of Ben Wall balls
I rouse myself and
I finish washing dishes
Make lists of errands
Make all my phone calls and then I pray for help
But each time
I try to make a fresh step
I end up
Just picking at an old scab