He woke up from the American Dream
But woke up without anything
Sweaty bed with the slight scent of trash
Never throwing out the old
Keeping the past
So they read him like a book
Then all his memories they easily took
Once or twice it's pillage in the mind
Identity theft happens
All of the time
Inside out, and returned to new
Now impossible to make an excuse
You aren't controlled by what used to be
But I'll save your memories for you
Jim, I'll be around when you want to talk
I'll be around.
