Dear old friend and caring brother
New enemy and cracked mirror
Condemned slave and acquitted killer
I already talk with you everyday
I might as well confess my dismay
The onlookers must hate our parley

Four books and twenty-two years
Still we are racked with fears
Still we are lost and estranged
But which one of us is deranged

Does the conscious live in the mind or the soul?
The mind, the soul, the heart, the will, who has control?
Am I writing a plea for ceasefire to you,
Or Am I the one receiving the devastating letter
Are you the one who watches the film
Or are you the movie director
Are you the one speeding down the tracks
Or are you the train conductor

People say we don’t smile enough
I say we don’t fake it enough
People say we don’t live enough
I say we don’t lie enough
Do they hate us?
I must say I hate you
I truly would hate to be you

Perhaps we could still be free
If we let someone else lead
Someone who cares more than us
But the problem would seem to be
which one of us holds the key