I try not to feel sorry for the world
Which is to say myself it does no good
Being my own strange world
Where we all know you're all
Locked up inside me my neighbor
Diagnosed with terminal kindness
My neighbor with a target on his back
That says 'Mother' in red letters
And that's just the outside world
Which I suppose to be like a father
On the inside who is always
Shouting for attention or applause
I try to stand right there between them
And let them hold me tight
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