Song 95 – Born strange

Born with a mind,
man of a kind.
Seen as a mute
with a life all screwed.
I write all kinds
of things that bleed
and cry and smile
as my soul may plead.
I bother who cares,
as I weigh my silence.
They find me a scorn
of god hurting without violence.
On fields of minds
with mines waiting cold,
I step on so heavy
on all feelings untold.