2: Strawberry Fields Forever
I'd be alone if it weren't for the silence, but there's the internal ticking of an overturned clock in me.
There's wine on my shirt and dust on my fingers and I think I've traveled to the future and I'm an old man – making fun of my death.
I don't mean to sound morbid but you do get a kick out of believing you're gone. And when you're gone and people can't let you go, you're caught between this world and that. And you know what? Let me go, all of you who care, you'd better let me go. I can't stand being torn between two things.
I'd like to run up those fields but I have no reason to get up today...