(With my tongue firmly in my cheek)
I'm known for my thinking and words spread on paper
I've lived in cognito, where I'm followed later
My thirst for more knowledge is quenched in dry bookstores
While religiously gathering Indian folklores
I trip over blind followers who chase me with fervour
And I smell the brown-noses who bask in my aura
I'm deafened by others who sit mute before me
But chased by camp-followers who gaily adore me
I sleep on my problems with women who're hazy
Some run from myself 'cause they think that I'm crazy
I cringe at the touch of the crawlers who fawn me
And taste the arse-lickers who swallow my beauty
I hunger for spaces to empty thoughts into
And fill up the bookshelves with publishers' print
Who would walk any mile
knowing my shoes as you do?
You'd have to be desperate or loose from the town zoo.
The price of celebrity is a high one?
Walk a mile in your shoes lc ? Not bloody likely
- Byron
- Posts: 3171
- Joined: Tue Nov 26, 2002 3:01 pm
- Location: Mad House, Eating Tablets, Cereals, Jam, Marmalade and HONEY, with Albert
Walk a mile in your shoes lc ? Not bloody likely
"Bipolar is a roller-coaster ride without a seat belt. One day you're flying with the fireworks; for the next month you're being scraped off the trolley" I said that.