| I am consumed by delusions of grandeur
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| I’m fallen prey to the beautiful girl
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| I have seen romance in the obvious quarters
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| And I have painted myself into that world
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| I have constructed my own personal Babel
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| But many passages remain out of print
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| Leaving me in an unresolved sentence
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| Without an idea of where it went
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| I have developed an unnatural candour
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| In contradiction to all I hold dear
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| I think of myself as tall and silent
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| This little voice is all that I hear
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| Now the night’s drawing in
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| I’m your unworthy friend
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| At the untimely end of a lifetime
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| Thinking I might hold on to my first marriage
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| I learned the language of the self obsessed
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| It was only later at the post-grad parties
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| That it rewarded me with great success
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| No longer waiting for my prayers to be answered
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| No longer waiting for my publisher’s call
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| No longer charming in my reminiscence
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| Only immersed in a faint afterglow
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| Now the night’s drawing in
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| I’m your unworthy friend
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| At the ungodly end of a lifetime |