Last night I went to see a hypnotist
Asked her to teach me not to dream
I've got too much to think about
An overdrawn account of people I've been too afraid to need
She said I'm no history revisionist
And there's some things I can't undo
You've got a tiny splinter on The tip of your finger
It demands all the attention in the room
I wish I could sleep on planes And
that my father would really love me
He'd show up on my wedding day And
tell my family they're all so lucky
He'd tell me how he wished he'd stayed
And then he never meant to disappoint me
But till then I'll exist as the optimist
I was an emotional architect Who knew your dimensions more than you
I learned which way you turned your back To let go of eye contact
And which bottles made you feel most
alone I wish I could sleep on planes
And that my father would really love me
Wouldn't have to feel such shame
About how often and how deep it cuts
me You'd call me almost every day
How's the weather?
Are you eating honey?
But till then I'll exist as the optimist
I know a dirty little magic trick
To disappear and disconnect Maybe I learned it from the best
Thank you,
I guess,
yeah,
if you saw it I bet I'd earn your respect
I wish I could sleep on planes And
that my father would really love me
Wouldn't take his dying day Some sort
of signature that he needs from me
My door is open just in
case You don't even have to say you're sorry
I already forgive you for all of it
But it's hard to exist as the optimist