There are police sirens in my head that sound like mad babies crying.nIt's the long face.nWhen my emotions rain the boss of the city is the cabdriver.nRunning up to my face and into my arms.nShared only some of it, give away most of it.nWhen I feel this way therefore I am.nIt's you, it's me, walking down that street.nI wish I could see my own funeral to regret being dead.nBaby don't leave.nI want the attention.