Why write when I’d rather scream?
When the more I think the less, it seems.
The more words I use the less they mean.
The more I scream the less I dream.
The more I please the less I’m me.
The more I’m me the less I’m we,
The more I’m me the more lonely,
The more I leave the more I need to be something I’ll never be in the reality of things.
Misunderstood vivid dreams, misinterpreted passion and lonelier than I’ll ever be.
I don’t care, I’ll follow this dream.
I’ll think like me and grow to be the loneliest man you will ever see…