I know you are a cardboard man,
I don"t trust your shining eyes.
it"s just the sun that"s shining through cutouts in your cardboard face.
I trace your outline in the dust that gathers on my window sill.
why do I recall your name?
why do I remember still?
can we claim that we could sense?
can we claim that we could see?
do I have a right to say that you disappointed me?
I don"t trust your shining eyes.
it"s just the sun that"s shining through cutouts in your cardboard face.
I trace your outline in the dust that gathers on my window sill.
why do I recall your name?
why do I remember still?
can we claim that we could sense?
can we claim that we could see?
do I have a right to say that you disappointed me?