I don’t have the time to hear the raindrops fall Getting up without knowing why at all Seems like I am the one who’s playing a part Turning in the revolving doors of art Hardly working on mindless poetry Painting pictures with mental imagery Can’t move on till I get things off my chest If I don’t they will pile to Everest Children asking me where it all takes place Curtains waiting put makeup on your face They’ve decided to play this show again Gimme fiction until the two worlds blend