I can hardly movenAnd I sure can't groovenAnd I can hardly see why I'm so afraidnAnd the days are longnI can't get rid of what's wrongnIt's plain to seenBut the problem is, is, is in mennI wish I werenA singernA dancernDancing for your lovennAm I somewhere in the middlenDo I count at being specialnIs there a sincerity in anything I say, ahhnDo I know what anything meansnCan I seennI listen to the radionNot music but the talk showsnI watch a lot of PBS and BBCnI don't want to meet the pressnI'm scared, I'm scared of what I seenThe only thing I recognizenIs the pain in my sidenAnd the hunger that I feelnIs the only thing that is realnnI wish I werenA singernA dancernDancing for your lovenAh, ah, ahh, ooo, ooo, ah, ah