The Art of Make Believe:

When I was a little girl, I liked to pretend
I lived in an imaginary castle with my make believe friend
And though they thought it strange, I swore I’d never change
I vowed to be a dreamer ‘til the end

Those days of innocence have left and time has relished in his theft
And my imaginary friend has moved away
Since the day she fled, I wrote her letters in my head
Hoping she would make it back someday

But there are debtors to be paid and big decisions to be made
People to impress, things to achieve
Though I’ve practiced it so much, I guess I must have lost my touch
I’m rusty in the world of make believe

The only thing I know is when I start to feel alone,
I go out to a very grown-up place
And drink that bitter drink that helps me not to think
Even though I might not like the taste

And sometimes when I drink too much, I feel this spinning in my head
And sometimes I don’t make it home and wake up in a stranger’s bed
He wraps him arms around my waist and then I get that bitter taste
It’s the fragile moment that I dread

But I think back to those early days, each time becoming more amazed
How rapidly the memory is retrieved
I stroke his unfamiliar face and smile to join his vile embrace
Remembering the art of make believe