The Soundtrack of My Life

We're all moving
To the soundtrack of my life
I feel so powerless
I've been living like a puppet
Sitting on the steps
While my novel is narrated
Through the eyes of
Some old fool who can predict
I see a man
Wearing an oversized coat
He has a guitar in his right hand
I've been in his place
Playing all my heart to everyone
Who can hear me
Why do they stare at me

We're all moving
To the soundtrack of my life
His chiselled chill face
Almost as thin as his guitar
The next chapter
In the narrative
He has a bag of
Terminated clothes
He has an eye
Permanently shut
A pain of paradise
Are we numb to perfection



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