This is another old lyrical piece I wrote like 25 years ago.


Charlie’s walkin’ the streets at three a.m.
Thinking some one is following him
Conspiring voices only he can hear
Charlie’s being stalked by his own fear

Our poor little Jenny she can’t be sane
Standing in the field in the pouring rain
Her torn flower dress is soaking wet
She waits for a sign from a passing jet

John’s crying so hard he can barely drive
All the pain inside is eating him alive
He built his life out of fragile lies
Now its crumbling right before his eyes

I am losing my mind
It was just a matter of time
I don’t mind, we don’t mind
Really I’m fine, we’re fine

This is where I want to be
Where we need to be
I’m no longer a puppet
Of our personality

Charlie walks the streets, it’s three a.m.
He knows something is wrong with him
Shadows of things he can’t bear to see
Charlie is thinking that he is me

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