Electrons tell me stories ‘cause I listen when they’re talking
I like building monasteries--look, the ghosts are coming!
Everywhere I go, it seems the ground is always humming
I think it’s just the Under-People hacking to the top-ground
But I don’t really care ‘cause that’s a less important sound
Than the telepathic aliens who tell me what to do
They’re nice and never fail to show me how to find a clue
And though they think my eyes should be a little bit more red
I can’t decide between them, or the Monkey, when I’m dead
I think that turkeys hate me and that’s why they are so ugly
They always eat my tongue and then they stalk off oh-so-smugly
I bet you think I’m weird just ‘cause I’m special, can’t you see?
It irks me when you call this gift of mine "insanity".
~Del