Years ago when I was filled with dreams, I was in a band with a high school friend. I was in art school at the time, and I all “nobody understands me, “I’m so different,” and feeling all sorry and superior. So I would try and write these arty songs with weird lyrics, trying to be clever and all. but my friend who came from an really messed up background, and had mental illness in the family , and lived in “that scary house,” in the street, desperately tried to be normal. So anyway we use to record stuff, and my stuff would be all kind of well recorded, and I’d go and visit him and he would just come out with these works of genius that I could never even begin to emulate.
I always loved what he wrote, and this in one of them. I think he was going through some love issues at the time. But he wrote this when he was twenty.
But it holds even truer now.
Nicholas Beckett Visionary 