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Murmurings I


I am that old man in the raincoat
wandering around the town.
They think I'm talking to myself
as I move muttering on around;
but I'm talking to the devil
sitting on my shoulders to ride,
or sometimes he slips into my head
to hide way deep down inside.

and he's talking to me constantly,
murmuring and chanting my name
and I talk back to shut him up
in my despair and shame.
I feel the looks of people
I just happen to meet
watch them in confusion
choose to cross the street.

Sometimes they lock me up
drug me to sleep
while my little devil
just hides away deep
until they let me out,
and I wait for the when
he sits back on my shoulders
and starts his murmuring again.

I am fighting for my sanity
fighting for the right to chose
to be the one who decides
whether I win this fight, or lose.
I am that old man in the raincoat
wandering with the devil in my head
and he's murmuring and muttering
and I know really he just wants me dead.







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