SuperImposter

Blurred spectacle, ineffectual
Let's call it romantic
On awakening I look straight at the sun
I'm pinned to the corner like the class clown

But once I get in front I'll let you drown like a cat
'Til I'm dealt that card
The engine's on, I'm in the car
One suck on the pipe and I'll be gone

I'm accountable. I'm responsible
You can call me pragmatic
What took away the fame?
Could it be built up again?
The acclaim and the constant eulogies
For class clowns like me?

But once I get in front I'll terrorize all I want
And the world won't turn...
Stops and stagnates...
Disintegrates
This romantic dream keeps you in a cage...

Should I not fraternize with these angels I've loved?
But if I'm out of time
I'll say my goodbyes and float downstream...
And have cynics witness me grow rotten at the seams...