IS THE NIGHTMARE BLACK OR ARE THE WINDOWS PAINTED?

Theme ( Madman Across The Water) inspired by Leon Russell advanced by Bernie Taupin, Elton John’s wordman … A story about a lunatics ravings on visitation day at the asylum. ( Now about me, and my attraction to this song and lyrics.) I recently experienced an allergic reaction to Prozac, which put me into

virtual, but seemingly very real hallucinogenic dreams, quite “Frankly”, sometimes I would ‘go on’ about a happening in my hallucination so much, my wife and son had to explain to me, that my ravings ‘never happened’ … without going into the details right now, I have to say that I almost died as I was completely unconscious for two days, I was put on a ventilator without which, I would have died. My hallucinations were accompanied by Endocarditis, ulcers, and pneumonia. The infection is out of my blood but settled on a heart valve,and I am scheduled for a heart valve operation very soon.

*Below a rewrite of original lyrics slightly altered as I assume the role of a madman, ( which, by the way ‘I have been called, by family, friends, and others ) the truth is, I see things very differently, and am “sometimes inspired by the slightest of occurrences, often a subtle difference in normal thought.” Frankie The Earthman.

I AM THE “MADMAN ACROSS THE WATER”… It would seem, but am I? .. Have you looked at yourself, I mean really looked inside at what dwells in you?

*I can’t see very well, but can a person be perceived “as a boat on a reef with a broken back?” Sometimes I live it very well. I used to smoke, and I smoked it very well, but it’s a habit I gave up long ago … Take my word, I’m a madman but I want you to know … If this fool had a good part in a play, if I ever did would I still be around today? .. I know I’m peculiar in an unknowable sort of way, some people think it’s very funny, the observations that I make … I better get my medicine dear, I feel some pain.

“We’ll go and see him, even if he’s on the moon,” In-laws promise to come back very soon, But is it in their conscience that they’re after another glimpse of this madman across the water?

Is my nightmare black, or have these asylum walks been painted? Will they come again next week, sometimes they think I’m faking …

Sometimes, I think they come to stare at me, I’ve heard their whispers back and forth, “See we’re not so terrible, look at this wretch,” as they turn to smile at me and wave goodbye.

I can see very well …

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