It itches and it’s inside my head
And I will scratch it as soon
As I can
Get up without falling down again
In the mean time maybe the sun from the window
Will burn through my skin into my flesh
In the mean time maybe the moon from the window
Can push against my arms and legs
And lift me to my feet to walk
In the mean time I can’t complain
Because I can’t remember whom to complain to
When I can’t get up
I can’t remember to complain that I can’t get up
I can’t remember except that I can’t forget
That it itches and it’s inside my head