Walking on air with that buzzing feeling all around you. Looking at people but not really seeing them.
Someone is talking. I can hear them. I realize it is me. Some odd kind of fevered chatter without approval.
My skin belongs to a stranger. It’s not mine to my touch. I’m turned inside out with no barrier of protection.
I’m a recognized bystander watching me through a kaleidoscope.  I witnessed my falls that came out of nowhere.
A slow good-by and now walking a straight line. But I have fond memories of my phase of delirium. It set me loose.

It ain't no
secret kept
once you're dead
you can't turn back
Where mistakes
that have been laid
have made their way
along the beaten path
So keep your head
on the path
of you can't turn back
once you're dead

It's a year almost that I have not seen her:
Oh, last summer green things were greener,
Brambles fewer, the blue sky bluer.

It's surely summer, for there's a swallow:
Come one swallow, his mate will follow,
The bird race quicken and wheel and thicken.

Oh happy swallow whose mate will follow
O'er height, o'er hollow! I'd be a swallow,
To build this weather one nest together.

Don't mean to startle
Or sound the alarm
But the way the world is these days
I think there's something wrong

We're fighting over here
They're fighting over there
In fact the more I look at it
There's fighting everywhere

While people beg for love
While people pray for peace
Until we learn to get along
We'll have none of these

When we continually set the blame
On the other side
With ignorance we dig our graves
In this losing game of do or die

It's coming to a head
This clashing of the wills
I'm afraid that our mistakes
Will be the cup of justice spilled

I don't mean to startle all of you
Or sound the alarm on what we do
But if you take a minute or two
I think you'll see it too

There is definitely something wrong...

Theft I try to contemplate.
What is it that lingers,
On finger tips,
On stranger's lips.
What is mine, tell me when?

I shake the tingling weight.
Why is it, that desire,
On silver trinkets,
On breast couplets.
Hath lead me lost. In vain?

Who had it first? What god.
When is mine forever,
On eve of death,
On ****** unknown.
Who? That pleasure is beneath you.