Here I am again; I am here again,nand if the wood and the wet pillownin the other room, where you're sleepingnwith memories of snake oil.nnAnd this is my blood, and we're still ndeveloping;nyou're fast asleep; we're still ndeveloping.nnAnd snake oil is the nsecret, sea-bound likena slow, steady volcano,nand sometimes it burns sweetnand sometimes,nit can burn a hole nright through you.nnBut we withhold our hearts when we nmake phone calls.nAnd this train is moving too fast nto jump off;nI hold, I hold on.nnWell, maybe I don't knownthe first thing about myself,nBut I am trying really hard to,ngrab this coat and not give up;nAnd it's true that when I nthink about my future I go blank;nYou are looking at menlike you got something you could tell me.nnWell, by all means, by all, by all meansnBy all means, by all, by all means.