I chip away. Cause I'm not ok. So I. I chip away. Poked a hole right into myself. And inside I found someone. Who said I was O.K.. Still I don't feel easy. On this tree. Among the blossoms. Caustically. I am the thorn. Close my eyes to take up spare time. I wish I just. Could be where the crowd goes. With the crowd. They must be going somewhere. Up from the catacombs. I ran into the angel again. He took the high road. And I took the low road. We both were dirty faces. We both were dirty faces. I don't. I don't. I don't. Don't feel easy. I don't. I don't. I don't. Don't feel easy.