"Of the making of many books, there is no end" - Solomon, Ecclesiastes.
Talking To Yourself
So what do you say, when it's all been said
The song been sung and the book been read?
But you've still got voices in your head
Giving it laldy.
Well, it's probably time to go to bed
With a glass of water and a slice of bread,
And lie there patiently, until your dead
Or at least till Friday.
You could let those crazy voices out
Whether they whisper, scream or shout
And find out what they're on about
They might be lonely.
Just offer them some company
A bit of a blether, a cup of tea
And in a while you both will be
by David Fee