In this world, I know I fear myself and only I,
Can see that all the other beasts out there can only try
To understand the panic contained within my desperate eyes,
Leaves me defenseless against the danger who is so nearby,

Whose tidings come so quickly that they wear me thin
To let my loves come so close to me’s my greatest sin
For without reason, without rhyme, they seem to let me in.
But without love, without compassion, my mind will always win,

The fight against my eyes, my ears, my words, and starving heart,
the ones who see right past the numbers, schemes, and abstract art,
who tend to know exactly where to end but not to start,
Who run when starts my mind’s game in which they don’t take part.

It’s time to wait, I say, for my mind to begin decay,
which seems to have taken more or less than a short seven days,
In which we’ve danced the brief but gorgeous rhythm and blues ballet
I’ve not been more frightened of a new change I can’t wait to stay,

Another seven days, a month, a year, a life maybe,
could end in fire which scorches skin to the harsh third degree.
But my harsher mind has gone a place marked by a burned marquee,
And with it gone, she’s just that much more alluring to me.

Without a mind, the world’s light has started dying,
But dimmer lights make rooms seem bigger, so without crying
I ask how can I know that time my world’s not buying,
In my mind that knows so well an art called lying?

I ask you follow close but stay only a pace away,
For now and only now, so that you know you’d love to stay
I cannot wait until the day I have the words to say,
I love you, at least for the next short seven days.