Lost in a paperback rain Picking through books that you won't read again Keeping your promises vague Lost in the crowd in the circus parade
Keeping your polaroids dry Delirious fevers burn night after night The cryptic malaise that you're in The art that may come of it I'd recommend
To focus attention on books you might write Ripped off from diaries, kept out of sight The evidence you hide
Keeping your bed warm at night It's not an illusion it glows very bright With the young coal the fire is fed Who you keep with you is best left unsaid
On finding particular friends Remember that all moral fiber will bend To put them in letters you burn as you write Seen in reflections and not with your eyes Cultivating lies
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