Contemplative boy, you’re always back and forth, and back and forth, and back and forth; Never the same. Think. You think too much. Your minds been running, running, running, running,, running, running. It never stops. Stop! Wait! Did you lose yourself again? Where did you go? Nobody knows: Let the madness swallow your soul. Caught: You’re caught in the grip. The vises: Chaos. Control. Chaos. Control. Chaos. Control. You’re torn apart. Contemplative boy, ou’re always back and forth, and back and forth, and back and forth. I’ve never been so back and forth
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