There and here i disappear for reasons easy to understand but hard to find the root of,, and my branches dont bend these days, theyve all begun to break
Down and out, back again, and then thrown out the door again, always lost, always confused, and on the losing end
Of life, of love, of simple self fufilment, ive tried every way you speak of yet i do not feel whole
Where i lie, with glassy eyes, i try to find the spies that lie amongst the company with which i try
To keep appearances and quaint relations, much a bother, i cant be dealt with
Desire, a pitchfork,  flames or stone
It does not matter to ne, for none shall own my throne