and i wonder, sometimes, who can see me, and who can hear me, and what they see, and what they hear. and i question, sometimes, what i've done, and what i'm doing, and whether it's right, and whether it's wrong. and i cry, sometimes, and i wish i hadn't hurt the ones i've hurt...

but the choices that i've made are made, and it's too late now to unmake them. so i lie here in this bed i've made, and i cry because i've made so many people cry. and the days and years and months go by, and still i'm making people cry, and still i lie here crying in my sleep.

and i wonder: does anybody hear me?
and i wonder: does anybody see?
and the days drift by, and the nights are long and lonely...

and i wonder if you can see me, and i wonder if you can hear. and i wonder if you know who you are, since i'm not quite sure who you are.
and does anyone quite know who we are?
and who am i?
i'd like to know...

but in the meantime i'll just lie here quietly and cry, and wonder if you see me, and wonder if you hear...


april 1997