I go where I go, I don’t know

I haven’t found the formula to measure my distress
The tick-tock of my heart-clock tells my mind I’m so depressed
I searched behind the mirrors and I broke down all the walls
Is it something rare or new or is it something old?
Is it something old?’


Such a silent world and an empty road
Behind that world is a pot of gold…
I’m sick of greedy people who just want a piece of me
They’re all so clever and so bright and modern to the T
You smell them from a mile away but I don’t really care
When it comes down to the facts I laugh and walk away….’




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