Standing at the concert of the tap dancing drummer,
You called me on a couple of faults.
You were right when you said I don't know who I am,
That it's something I've never been sure of.
Now the words, they don't flow like they used to,
And they thoughts, they all just dissolve.
And when they unfold, it's more like a ghost,
And I'm never quite sure what I saw.
I wish I said sorry as we talked over coffee,
I couldn't find the right things to say.
And you know I couldn't blame you when you looked up from the table,
And said you couldn't see me again.
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