Michael Louis Wells: Music
Can't See You
(Bipolar Explorer)
You may be there, but so impaired. You speak your lines just fine each time. Y'always succeed. You're well-received. I know this pose with my eyes closed. Given everything you've got. You'll find a way to hang
me up. The high ideals you deeply feel so impress all you address. But when you're
alone the meat turns bone. Their comfort's cold when you're gettin' old. You well-deceive with make-believe. And you pretend you need a friend. The
notes seem true but I'm not moved. I've my doubts, I'll do without you. Can't see you.