Always the odd one out 

Talk to ghosts that's me 

Synchronised numbers i see 

11.11....1...2...3..

Or all the fives 

444 

22.22 ...2020 and more 

White feathers float to me 

 

The Angel's they guide me 

Ancestors walk with me ...besides me 

 

I can see them ..hear them feel them

If you can't.. it mustn't be real then 

I look distant to you ..in a daze me 

You treat me different you think I'm crazy

Well maybe just maybe 

I am 

Walking around at 3am in the street..pushing a pram 

An empty one 

And i've got no shoes on 

Or clothes ...just a sheet from my bed 

Wrapped round my body 

A pillowcase on my head 

And I'm armed with a rolling pin 

I stole it from my mother 

When she wasn't in 

I replaced it with a letter written in blood 

It said thanks for the rolling pin I hope you are good 

And I drew a picture of a caravan 

And you were in it.. drinking cider from a can 

I recorded it all then I threw my phone 

Into the sand pit 

The one by the sea 

Then I wrote in the sand 

FUCK OFF from me 

I got to the damp part near sinking sand 

I scooped up a sandcastle and ate it from my hand 

I bit my finger too 

I'm so bored of entertaining you today

A life time with no filter 

Who will walk and who will stay 

There's nothing else to see now folks 

Nothing much to see 

Other than strange stuff from crazy unstable me