These hammers and strings
Been following me around
From a box-filled garage
To the dark punk rock clubs
Of one thousand American towns
And my friend calls me up
She says, "How have you been?"
I say, "Dear I've been well
Yeah the money's come in
But I miss you like hell
I still hear you in this old piano"
She says, "Andy, I know
That we don't talk as much
But I still hear your ghost
In these old punk rock clubs
Come on, write me a song
Give me something to trust
Just promise you won't let it be
Just the keys that you touch"

"Give me something to believe in
A breath from the breathing
So write it down
I don't think that I'll close my eyes
'Cause lately I'm not dreaming
So what's the point in sleeping?
It's just that at night,
I've got nowhere to hide"
So I write you a lullaby

These hammers and strings
Been following me around
Behind passenger vans
Through the snow, dirt, and sands
Of one thousand American towns
And my friend calls me up
With her heart heavy still
She says, "Andy, the doctors
Prescribed me the pills.
But I know I'm not crazy
I just lost my will.
So why am I, why am I
Taking them still?"

"I need something to believe in
A breath from the breathing
So write it down,
I don't think that I'll close my eyes
'Cause lately I'm not dreaming
So what's the point in sleeping?
It's just that at night I've got nowhere to hide"

To the sleepless, this is my reply:
I will write you a lullaby