Lyrics

I've lost the ability to concentrate For more than 8 seconds So I click away, click away, click away my day I'm searching for you, searching for her, searching for him While I'm searching for myself I'm not being metaphorical, I'm not being philosophical Well, it turns out you're 8 kinds of an artist and an adventurer Turns out he is just himself Turns out I'm a baseball star, and I'm living in hell 'Cause I died in El Paso, I was born in 1912 I wish that you would search for me I hope that you search for me sometimes I wish that when I wake up you will have found me Left me a note saying that you miss me profoundly I'm just being nostalgic, I'm just bеing quixotic Well, it turns out you really are a conductor and a rock star I can't bеlieve how much you've done Turns out I'm a computer programmer, living in Washington But I died in El Paso, winter of 1941 I'm searching for all of the songs That I haven't heard in months I think if I'm sing them all things will be like they were Maybe I'll just sing 'til it hurts I'm not practical, I'm not logical Well it turns out that they broke up, they got a different name Turns out they didn't want to be a band Turns out I was carjacked and murdered, buried in the Las Vegas sand And I died in El Paso, a lonely, lonely man I never have to search for you Because I know everywhere you are I never ever search for you 'Cause know everywhere you are I'm not being hurt by you, but neither am I alright Well it turns out that you were always beautiful And I'm living in Hell Turns out you were always beautiful, and I'm living in Hell Because I died in El Paso, I was born in 1912