What I have I am unaware of. You want peices I cannot put together. You want to form a puzzle I don’t want to see. You want to make it part of yourself. In a misplaced place where I won’t know the difference. In the end of time you will find all you’ve got was quite possibly just a lost form of me. In the meantime, I’ll be cracking up and down with a smiling frown. When you hear the sound. The sounds of this misplaced place would let you see my unmasked face. A face you shouldn’t smell or taste. You couldn’t know if it was a waste.