| My own Head? |
| Oh, sweet I, what is I? What does thee see my searching eye? The trees that pierce the ground or the spirits in between? Oh, tell me, tell me please! Give me rest, give me peace. This Ego I keep relating to; does it bare my name or bares it me? I felt it once, something strange; a burning urge to rearrange myself and what is me and I, but where to start? Where to start? In the beginning of my day I always go to sleep in a pure hope of leaving the darkness outside and dream of the millions of suns each with a different story to tell of the millions of years that passed and all the atoms that changed. |