Perambulating paranoia.

Oh, a man is walking down the street toward me,
walking in the opposite direction to the way I am,
his arm on his young girlfriend.
As he looks up to their path
his eyes catch mine,
a blank look, falls into my face
– in a split-second he’s blind.

Just because it looks at the moment
like I’m more of a mess than you, Mate,
it doesn’t mean that I’m more of a mess.
I can tell you this because I’m more of a mess.

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