I move through the interstitial layers, I smoke in the basement, I write in the margins, and grow in the cracks I'm lost and I'm looking, all around the edges, and I'll never find more than a crumb because it's designed that way They say I've lost thirty-percent of my mind, but not the main part I'm only seen when there aren't many people around, I'm only heard by accident I don't speak, unless someone speaks to me, but w...