I don't see what you see in me,
I'm just flesh and bone,
Many hours at the carousel
Postcards from far from home
Sometimes i feel as useless as my empty words, old presidents' dogs, clean paws, no dirt-
What do these words mean?
Sometimes i just don't know.
Sometimes i just can't see where it is i go-
I waste my whole day thinking over things i've said
And avoiding myself like the plague in my head
I know that you see me
And i know you're about me,
That's why you let me roam another 10 miles-
Where does all this lead, and why must i follow it?
Nothing is black and white,
(even me, i must admit).
I jot down the facts and work on consistency,
But open up the closed door;
It's george, and the cat, and me.
My shifting eyes like sands cannot focus on the void,
"get thee behind me, freud."
I'm grasping at straws and the bale is almost gone;
The fire's grown much too dim,
Nights grow much too long-
I am holding things yours,
Not mine while i should cling to you
Like a cow beneath the light of a highway sign.