Languid through traffic, I crave to be seen as I am
Yet I fear the guests will publicize my breakdown
Start a theater in this cruel town
Why are you, why are you, why are you here?
Come to torment me, to mock those who feel
Why are you, why are you, why are you here?
Come to berate me; my pain is not real
Racing through traffic, my sights are set on you
I don’t want the end to be quite so indignant
But the call is quite insistent
I don’t want to be famous
I just need to be known
Even if it’s for something minor
I just want to be remembered
Silent in traffic, I mourn what was lost of me
In their minds, I hear a litany of failures
At my wake they’ll ride as sailors