Someone has to

Observe this melancholy

And draw my picture

And draw my visions

Transfer them into photographic

Beauty

If such words can be applied

Because my head throbs

And my heart sobs

And I'm still feeling sick

But no matter, I'm only here to observe

So I am expendable

And yet so vital

To your everlasting theatre:

Exhibitionism doesn't stop here

My boy,

I am the observer

And I see through everything

I see through you

Like glass.