There is a girl who seems to me to be so out of focus
Like clouds on the sea she stifles me along the rift that broke us
She stands by the door and secretly knows every place I try to go
Then out of the corner of my eye she seems to grow
She may know the way.
There is a bird that sings for me - unseen, unmoved, unanswered
Like cracks in the ceiling it powders me: the whim become the master
For mine is a song so out of key, you may not take the melody
Can you imagine life without your very own Me?
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