Over Seas

People! O, my people. Where are we now? How can we survive in this dismal crowd. People, oh-my people, how are we now? Where will we go when we are here now? I am a survivor, the right hand of a lefty, hanging patiently, waiting to be forth-putting. I am a back, out of your vision and out of my own contact. I am lonely, but I hold myself up and pray that one day someone will know me. Vision, eye, see. Nothing behind me as the same in front of me I am still like a tree. I feel we strive to be, but we are mistaken, because first we strive. We need to let be. I am a good company, slap a sticker on me and send me over seas.