Narcoleptic

I sleep, therefore I exist.
Nothing provokes me because I am
where you cannot touch me.
I make the rules of my dreams and break them as I choose.

I sleep on these streets of hate and love
Dirt on my face like light from the sun.
I can be anywhere, the roads are all the same
Sound, your sound does not touch me then, like a caress.

Born here, and looking for my mother
Dog, lost on a crowded highway
Sure to be run over if I turn too brave
No one to shelter me when life rides away in a taxi.

Hyperventilate in a strange room
They leave me alone these men who want forty-dollars worth of love
Love is not death; death is sleep but I always wake up,
On a pavement or hotel room, it is all the same.

I celebrate at a funeral
How an old man lived and died of a broken heart
I look shallowness in the eye and scream - shallowness is fear.
I sleep again and again and again.

Let me sleep, I owe you nothing anymore
Thieves take all, someone picks me up
The roads converge at Idaho; potato country,
Where a green house still stands from memory.




Written after watching My Own Private Idaho, a film by Gus Van Sant. It is a really good film. Here's a link to a trailor http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xA0U0otWuzE
Thanks Aazar for lending me the film! :)