As if no one knows I exist. As if no one cares if I am here or gone. As if that does not matter I just carry on. A babbler must babble on. As if there is no reason or rhyme. As if it does not matter what I do with my time. As if this was the scene of a crime. The silence is all that can be heard. No one says a word about the words. I might as well be writing for the birds. Still it turns me on. The babbler must babble on.
You may be out there from time to time and you may be caring much more than you show. Old friends or new friends may enjoy the rhyme and I may always be the last one to know. Coming home from fun and games with the friends who do not even know this world of words exists. I wonder what we might have missed staying on the surface...
though not as deep as then might have been
if they reached the the blackness of the emptiness deep down inside
no one goes there
but that does not mean nobody cares
I've got friends taking care of me on the outside
there's just nobody coming in to the dark where I hide
in the blackness of the emptiness deep down inside
Why so serious?
No comments:
Post a Comment