I'm me, and what the hell can I do about it !... I who am, in the end...

??????????????????????????????????


Yes, I am I, I myself, just what I turned
out to be after all,
A sort of accessory or left over,
The foggy suburbs of my sincere emotion,
It's me here inside of me, it's me...


What I was, what I wasn't --- that's all me.
What I wanted, what I didn't, all of that gets to be me.
What I loved, what I stopped loving --- it's all become
the same sad yearning in me.


And at the same time, the impression ,
a bit inconsequential.
Like a dream made of mixed realities.
Of facing myself left behind on a seat in a trolley.
To be accidentally met by someone who'd sit down
on top of me.


I'm me, and what the hell can I do about it !... 

I'm me, and what the hell can I do about it !...