She came, or so I thought. Hell she was probably faking, people do that. I'm tired of sorting, sifting...singing old songs.
I had a dream, or so I thought. Hell it was probably the drugs, people do that. I'm tired of searching, buying...wearing dark clothes
I wrote a poem, or so I thought. Hell it was probably nonsense, people do that. I'm tired of cutting and pasting....pretending I'm you