I remember walking home with my father from the stationnHand in hand, and all alone in silent frustrationnAnd the words he said to me just drifted away in the windnLike this memory, like the photographs in my father's housennI don't want to be faded skinnI don't want to fade outnI want to fade innI want to fade innnCan you see me? I can't see myselfnCan you hear me? I can hardly hear myselfnAnd I don't want to be a faded memorynAll I want is to be mennI don't want to be faded skinnI don't want to fade outnI want to fade innI want to fade in