Find My Own Existing Land

May 2010


Let me take you down, what else could I do for you,
you see my life, I barely have much to care about,
I find my own Strawberry Fields, and make it forever,
where nothing is real, so there is nothing to overthink.
Nowhere Man resides, in my green wasteland,
together a height is achieved, as I take off like Jimi,
blank white wall above me, so your image fills the void,
I can't fight that which keeps me warmer above my blanket.
Why would you scuff a diamond, only a diamond like you can cut me,
what is the point of writing the words, if there is no intent of it ever being read,
taken by my strategy, multiply and glide by,
keep worries away from your life, it is going to be alright.
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