An odd sense of delirium sweeps over me

I close my eyes and see steaming sewer grates

While violins are playing Viva La Vida in my head

A quiet ache, with an unknown cause

No known faces among the maddening crowd

A familiar place, where you have little to discover

A park bench that will be etched in your memory forever

An odd sense of delirium. A maze of unconnected dots.