Billy Coconuts
I am actually a real person, but sometimes I don't feel like one. That not real person is here, except this is my realist
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Home again, but not there
Thankful for what I have, but wishing it was something else
Off tomorrow, back to there
Wistful eyes, tired lies, told to no one new
Who am I, and howcome why
I’ve sought for shelter, lived the skelter yet here I sit tonight
Lone with the sound, voice in hand
I sit, I think, no longer need I ask
Born to bear, and these thorns I will wear
