An odd sense of delirium sweeps over me
I close my eyes and see steaming sewer grates
While violins are playing Viva La Vida in my head
A quiet ache, with an unknown cause
No known faces among the maddening crowd
A familiar place, where you have little to discover
A park bench that will be etched in your memory forever
An odd sense of delirium. A maze of unconnected dots.