I wanna play my life like
music, like a song you'd
wanna sing to but
all I've got is me for now, and
that is what I cling to and
like trains in the night my
thoughts pass by each other-
I'm a string without a kite and a
moon without another one of
me in the dark-hope skies-
I've spent far too much time with
stars stuck to my eyes to have
you come and shoot me through
the cracks in my wing mirror; that's the
thing, you never think before you
draw back and shoot your
careless arrow,
your vision's far too narrow when it
comes to me-

it seems I sometimes
shrink down to a construct
in your autobiography
that's not who I wanna be
(I'm not part of you, I'm me).