Harlem

Most days I'm barely breathing & I find myself believing,
That everything in life is but a dream.
& though my heart is broken, deep down you gotta know,
That nothing is as bad as it seems.

In the end it all works out, In end it all works out, yeah.

Cryin' to your Mama, 'cause your Daddy's back in Harlem,
Picking' up his scotch and his gin.
But you know it doesn't matter, 'cause i he's only getting scattered,
Yeah everything gets scattered in the wind.

Chorus

Everything is a given, live and breathe just the same.
Never know when it'll be given, or taken away.

Savin' all your money for a jar full of honey,
When you know that it won't buy you any friends.
Well you know its like a quickie, you'll be getting' pretty sticky
& your feeling pretty icky in the end.

Chorus