I'm not crazy...
The voices inside my head tell me not to talk to psychiatrists.
And now I'm back from a party and want to go to bed where she
has to get out of right about now. While I've been dancing with
the punks of the town she's been dreaming about life. We were
singing lullabies about how people are and shouldn't be, about
all the strange folk that walk around these days. And she was
dancing in her mind, while the rain of ideas fell upon her. While
she was caressed by the new found glories we were drinking
and moving our bodies, by the ways our minds moved as we
listened to the folklore. Her day starts while mine just ended.
While I can finally sleep and dream away my sorrow, she has
to get ready for work.
..for I am lonely and sick.
Raziel, man, 37 jaar
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