Can you still hear me I know you are in there
Just hiding from the cruel world for a while
I cannot blame you oh for all I care
I cannot find your secret isle
You can still hear me inside that bleak shell
Of twisted tubes and broken dreams
Escaping the world of wealth and power
Success by size of cars it seems
Can you not hear in that melee
Of broken thought and twisted dream
Or have you gone and left just me
Was I really your little sunbeam?
Why don't you hear me, here disguised
With tube and pad, with age and wear
Have I once too often sighed
Or perhaps shown you too much care?
A child, now grown up, talks to an elderly parent who is in a coma.
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