My mind is stuck in the noise of the world,

Thinking the thoughts of people I don’t know.

One minute with one, the next, to another sold,

My mind is in the market for all of your woes.

It gives me great pleasure to put words to our sorrow,

It helps me write the lyrics to our mime,

Your thoughts and your pain I steal and borrow,

And add to them my own sweet rhyme.

I want to bury our melancholy and tears

In the mud underneath our beautiful home,

And give to the world the happiness of years,

Of the years and the times that are still to come.


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