The Grateful Dead

I told Althea I was feeling lost

Lacking in some direction

Althea told me upon scrutiny

That my back might need protection

I told Althea that treachery

Was tearing me limb from limb

Althea told me, now cool down boy

Settle back easy, Jim

You may be Saturday's child all grown

Moving with a pinch of grace

You may be a clown in the burying ground

Or just another pretty face

You may be the fate of Ophelia

Sleeping and perchance to dream

Honest to the point of recklessness

Self-centred to the extreme

Ain't nobody messin' with you but you

Your friends are getting most concerned

Loose with the truth, maybe its your fire

Baby I hope you don't get burned

When the smoke has cleared, she said

That's what she said to me

You're gonna want a bed to lay your head

And a little sympathy

There are things you can replace

And others you cannot

The time has come to weigh those things

This space is gettin' hot

You know this space is gettin' hot

I told Althea, I'm a roving sign

That I was born to be a bachelor

Althea told me, OK that's fine

So now I'm trying to catch her

Can't talk to you without talking to me

We're guilty of the same old things

Thinking a lot about less and less

And forgetting the love we bring