Lost in a paperback rain   Picking through books that you won't read again   Keeping your promises vague   Lost in the crowd in the circus parade      Keeping your polaroids dry   Delirious fevers burn night after night   The cryptic malaise that you're in   The art that may come of it I'd recommend      To focus attention on books you might write   Ripped off from diaries, kept out of sight   The evidence you hide      Keeping your bed warm at night   It's not an illusion it glows very bright   With the young coal the fire is fed   Who you keep with you is best left unsaid      On finding particular friends   Remember that all moral fiber will bend   To put them in letters you burn as you write   Seen in reflections and not with your eyes   Cultivating lies