I don't exactly want to be famous
But I do exactly wish to be read

And I would like my loves remembered
When I'm long lost doomed and dead

Some things so long inside me
They simply had to be said

Letters, poems, love songs
Confessions like blood run red

Much madness now behind me
Unknown fears in the future ahead

My roommate was a bank robber
I'm a geek with no street cred

Coincidentia oppositorum
Is the way the mystics wed

Trump's rise unites the racists
To Ireland we fled

Snowfall shunyata
Though Pascalian the Dread

Silence, sacred silence,
Where will we be led?