Chantal Kreviazuk: Imaginary Friend

It scares me to speak my mind
it might sound self-absorbed
i don't say half of what i think
i wonder what i'm thinkin' for
i'm smelling dead flowers
listening to the walls again
i'm drinking from a leaky faucet
and writing with this dried up pen
wish i still had my imaginary friend
and who needs to listen, well
what do i have to sell
everyone's just waitin' for their own turn
kind of like show and tell
someone to listen
someone to laugh
someone to cry at the right times
Chorus [x2]
And i would call him up
but i don't remember his name...