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 President's 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, another 10 miles, another 10 miles
Where does this all 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 Closet door; it's George, and The cat, and me.
My shifting eyes like sands Cannot focus on the void, Concentration still, "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.