Ash Wednesday Lyrics

It's midnight in New Jersey
I'm beating steps back to Kennedy
The cold wind blows around me
But I don't feel a thing:
I'm already dead
I'm staring at the ceiling
Can't keep my head from reeling
I feel just like Jim Croce
Singing "This is not my home"
New York is not my home

And I can still feel the lump
On the side of my head where,
Struck with remorse,
I tried to beat myself to death
And I can't pick up my guitar
Without trying to make you love me again

You're a million miles away
I burned your picture weeks ago
Now every single day's spent cold
And boneless, home alone,
Waiting by the phone
I got a full head every morning,
I got a clear head every night
My only friends are Heinekens
The days are none too bright
I been waiting for the light

And I can still feel the lump
On the side of my head where,
Struck with remorse,
I tried to beat myself to death
And I can't pick up my guitar
Without trying to make you love me again

I am a man, I am a dreaming man.
I am dreaming of not being
Kicked to the ground again
I am alive, but I am falling down
I can't even think of any words
That rhyme with falling down
It's midnight in New Jersey
I'm beating steps back to Kennedy
And if you asked me twice I'd say, "This whole goddamn city
Can sink into the sea for all I care right now"

And I can still feel the lump
On the side of my head where,
Struck with remorse,
I tried to beat myself to death
And I can't pick up my guitar
Without trying to make me love you again