My eco-system is based on hatred. My Dna remains untested. I hate the tyranny of the Sun. It always rises always comes down. I'm running out of fantasy. I don't expect your sympathy. I'm old I'm strange I'm confidential. Has my fantasy run out of delusion?. Has my fantasy reached its logical conclusion?. I'm running out of fantasy. The dying fall of my sentences. The magic of lost consequences. The seduction of a fading power. In a hotel room in the middle of nowhere. I'm running out of fantasy. I don't expect your sympathy. I'm old I'm strange I'm confidential. Has my fantasy run out of delusion?. Has my fantasy reached its logical conclusion?. I'm running out of fantasy. I'm revealing myself in layers. Exposing a core to the inner eye. Drawn deep into some distant episodes. I don't know whether to laugh or cry. Running out of fantasy. The obsession with change has bled my dry. My fantasy forever locked inside. The obsession with change has bled my dry. The obsession with change has bled my dry. My fantasy forever locked inside. The obsession with change has bled my dry