There's no place to hide things
Under the bed
And nowhere to hide from what's true
Down here by the floor
My soul calls out "More!"
But knows that its cry won't get through

From the futon
From the futon
Everthing, always so low
From the futon
From the futon
I'm in limbo - how low can I go?

I don't have a headboard
Or boxspring of wire
My spirit's hit low altitude
The mattress is thin
It's itching my skin
And that isn't helping my mood

From the futon
From the futon
Everthing, always so low
From the futon
From the futon
I'm in limbo - how low can I go?