I could cry tears that sobbed a thousand miseries. I do. I am.
There are two overflowing storm drains on my face
and darling, it's really pouring out there, make sure you take an umbrella.
I wish you would let me make you understand, make you see.
So stupid is what I am,
naive still, enough to think I'm not.
Such a fool be me,
but who does the listener turn to when everyone has plugs of self-importance
filling their ears and always a phrase on the tip of their tongue?
I would turn to you. I did turn to you.
The twin soul who knew. Just knew.