We play with images so much
Reality seems strange;
The world is not like fiction,
Not so easy to arrange —
And yet, the beauty’s in the mess,
In life’s askew profusion,
For order’s overrated in
Our joyful real
Confusion
Other People's Feelings
We play with images so much
Reality seems strange;
The world is not like fiction,
Not so easy to arrange —
And yet, the beauty’s in the mess,
In life’s askew profusion,
For order’s overrated in
Our joyful real
Confusion