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