I’m traveling on the Road of Dreams. This is my dreamscape if it’s me.
Got to call old Sigmund Freud, a kindred soul, and ask him if it’s me.
Once, I went to the Theater of the Absurd and searched for Truth.
Tried to understand why I’ve suffered so much and if it’s me.
On a dog day afternoon, I walked on the Coney Island Boardwalk,
saw a freak show, watched my ghostly face in the mirror and asked if it’s me.
A woman of beauty, with red flaming hair, danced naked in Central Park.
“I love my man!” she shouted. And I whirled and swirled and asked if it’s me.
The train rushes across the vast Waste Land and a bearded man sleeps.
I’m a Man of the Woods and a Wizard too-if it’s me.