My brain and I are dismantled,
I choose not where it wants to go.
It makes a home and nestles in
far from where I've ever been.
So when the sun sets from the meadow
and the distant cars pass by.
I'll confront my problems,
the swaying grass my lullaby.
Gypsy cotton and turned tables,
sweeter then those distant fables
that I dreamt of when I grew.
Join me now or leave forever
because I can't do it anymore.
Diamonds, gold, Saturn and Stonehenge,
you're as distant as them all.
don't let my smile convince you
you've already taken that fall.
And as I scratch this in some scrap paper,
know that I'm doing you a favour
I'm not telling the subtle truth.
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