I'm rather taken by the song "Beauty Queen" in which the ranting of a woman who "maybe ... was crazy" connected with a bypasser's internal reality.
I don't know why I'm here
You don't know who I am
Don't touch me I'll break
I am glass, I am steel
Don't touch me, you can't
You won't reach me where I am
She was a beauty queen
So maybe she was crazy, she was different from us
Or maybe she's not crazy at all
I wanna know what it was
How she could take one look
And see the bottom of my soul
No comments:
Post a Comment