Talk to me...

I am lost again. Somebody, please find me.
The mirror streets, they all look the same.
On the sidewalk, people lay rocked with me,
it itches, like a needle in the heart to see
humans behave like animals all the time...
Some push, some kick, some break and some kill.
times its wondering how we are lost on the road.
the fields look nakedly clear brown to the eye
i asked a man why is everything so blurry and dry?
he stared and left me wondering alone here away,
far away from the dreamland in the real reality.
As i move on and try to understand my surroundings
i have been gathering dry moss and paper rings.
Dry moss makes me feel how timid and sticky i am
under the open skies and across the horizon.
the paper rings hurt the most without a doubt,
they breach in and the poor honest is forced out.
Women sleeping on the beds of nails in pain i hear
while their men fighting for the false pride i see.
there i see the bridge ends with a head running ire.
i have been there, seen it all. i need to tell somebody
i cross the bridge and i am again in my dreamland
the feigned calm and beauty has chained me again
i want to talk to somebody before i get lost again.