Mad Man
Well now he's gone and done it
He's not making much sense
And all that whiny spiny bull
That too won't make him much cents
He's always hurting and the worst
Is how he sits on the fence
He never makes his damned mind up
Forever so dense
Or maybe not because he's really not as dumb as he seems
He merely drifts in and drifts out of
Superlative dreams
Where everything that he thinks it is
Is really the fake and everything
That it is is on the verge of a break
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