In the stilness of the night my eyes are closed. 
My mouth is wide. 
I could see her face. 
Her beautifull hair I could recognize. 

She looks at me cold. 
She probably don't know who I am. 

Mommy it is me, it's Keith. 
You had me back when... 

But sometimes I like to pretend, that she knows me, that she holds me. 
Sometimes I like to pretend, that she knows me, that she holds me. 

I guess I can't, 'cause she doesn't know who I am. 

My mind it's dreaming, God it's so misleading. 

Do you thing it's 'cause I've grown old. 
Is it [bad word] that what I was told? 
You cried to leave me?