My house of cards, built on the sand,
Is floating away, looking very stable,
As I hit a very good hand.

Where are you in this life?
You are invariably in this room, on this street, in this place.
Well, sometimes it's not really you and at other times new crowds are bringing a temporary room-sharing in.

I've been told that I should be thinking.

It appears, that this is a mirage.

My current situation neither is current nor really mine.
I don't even know, what I have to do with it.

Crazy people should have their good days, too. It would make us normal.

Do you care
Or do you want?

People are strange,
You are normal,
What does it say about you?

At the beginning there was the Universe,
Where your naked Alter Ego was looking at you endearingly,
And then finally you got up,
Having as your first to-do some cloth shopping.

We are alone in different beds,
Making the random and desperate bets,
Having nightmares, desires and etc.