PAUL SIMON
SIMON SAYS
Sonny sits by his window
and thinks to himself
How it's strange that
some rooms are like cages
Sonny's yearbook from high school
is down from the shelf
and he idly thumbs through the pages.
Some have died; Some have fled from themselves
or struggled from here to get there
Sonny wanders beyond his interior walls,
runs his hands through his thinning brown hair
and thinks to himself
How it's strange that
some rooms are like cages
Sonny's yearbook from high school
is down from the shelf
and he idly thumbs through the pages.
Some have died; Some have fled from themselves
or struggled from here to get there
Sonny wanders beyond his interior walls,
runs his hands through his thinning brown hair