Not Quite Human

Every cell within my body
every photon of my soul
makes it clear to me
that I am not quite human.
As human as I'd like to be.

Every shadow of a memory
in this modern metal place
helps me understand
that I am not quite welcome.
Welcome in this busy land.

Find a job, a chain reaction,
suddenly you're pointless on the street.
Even though you've got a living.

Seconds out, you've just made fifty
and every cardboard box you made is gone.
At least you've got your bones as evi-dence.


Every glance into the mirror
on a dusty summers day
helps me realise
that I am not quite normal.
As normal is in paradise.

Every daily angst of lyrics
from the pressure cooker mind
helps to focus me
but it is not quite living.
As living as I want to be.