My life changes with the leavesnFrom brightest amber to hues of greennBut my bones are breaking for the only shade I’d rather benSo I’ll put on a starchy shirtnCollar and a tienAnd play the part for which I’m hirednA firm handshake and matching smilennAnd I’ll ask myself to be a little more of what I think is me.nThe very thing I’m afraid to becomennWith every breath I think it’s burning in my chestnAnd if this fever ever breaks, I’m ready for the restnLate at night the sorrow comesnIt’s eating up my eyesnAll the world is standing stillnThey’ll never hear my criesnnAnd I’ll ask myself to be a little more of what I think is me.nThe very thing I’m afraid to become.nAnd I’ll ask myself to be a little more of what I think is me.nThe very thing I’m afraid to become.nnCause life has become too much for menHow it is and how I’d rather benAll falls down without a soundnnCause life has become too much for menHow it is and how I’d rather benAll falls down without a soundnnAnd I’ll ask myself to be, nAnd I’ll ask myself to benA little more of what I think is me.nnAnd I’ll ask myself to be a little more of what I think is me.nAnd I’ll ask myself to be a little more of what I think is me.nThe very thing that I’m afraid to becomenAnd I’ll ask myself to be a little more of what I think is me.nThe very thing that I’m afraid to become