It was lost on you
When I said something so special
As my musical heritage
Your ears did not anything
Not even a budge

When I cried
My sweet sentiments of life
Were lost on you
And nary an artform
You desired to share

There is no excitement
In love
If there is nothing
To be excited about
Except solitude

And that I have plenty
With me and my minions
In imaginations and dreams
Bubbling like clones of clones
Being the ants at your feet