Did I reach a bit too far? Have I gone the wrong way? Should I be here in this place? Is there an answer eluding me Something that I've failed to see Some kind of dark conspiracy That you kept from me So you washed your hands You washed your hands of me And you walked away You turned your back on me And left me here Who am I if not myself? Am I just dust upon a forgotten shelf? Framed and hanging from a wall In some lonely obscure gallery hall Still I wait for you To collect me