A brooding darkness follows me Encroaches on me everywhere My former shadow swallows me
Absurdity is in the air
We who have suffered know who care Or care not for our company Too late but soon when here is there Absurd yet not a tragedy Only tragic absurdity Of that kind we were meant to share
If only this cloud would leave me
If I could ever find the light And get a crowd to believe me Then that would be just about right
Between the profit and the loss A prophet (with an albatross)
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randy