Strange daze, everyday im amazed
Everyday I feel crazed, so I write on a page
Its a little like a symphony the way the words get into me
I try too hard at fame to make a name, who’s into me
Like Im living in a prison without shackles in a kitchen with no knives, no tools, cut up inside an image
I just move with the wind, no telling how Ill feel
No telling if Ill be able to deal with the real when I keel
Am I happy, kinda, when the world seems brighter
Im broke as a joke, eating ramon on a type writer.


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