Breathing is supposed to be a natural thing
But I have to remind myself a lot of days.
Living this fantasy is obviously a game
But I’ve found that it’s real, all the same.

I’m locked within a thick glass cage
Cats and fish, hell the whole food chain
Pianos, computers, guitars, and rage
denial, my Idol - this is a phase

Creation is supposed to be a natural thing
At least for me, or so I think
Writing, playing, feeding, and taking
Each day for each day
Each strain for each strain

Where’s the robber who took the blubber
from inside my cracked igloo?
Where’s the culprit?
Who’s keeping me from you?
Where’s my heart?
What did we do?

Bathing in a bathroom bathed in blue
Rinsing off the pain and then stumping my toe
Gathering up my strength and then gathering up my clothes
When will this all pass?

Who knows.

©2001 J.A.S.

 
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