The Humble Narcissist

Everyone has the same idol, the same mind’s cycle, the same vinyls playing the same music that I find so idle

I don’t know their idol, I don’t get their mind’s cycle, I cant tune in to their vinyls 

Who is she? Who is he? Do I even wish to know? The tide they all come through is so stiflingly akin I must leave.

The sea, the sea.. ahoy! Go, I must. Another tide.. surely there’s another tide for ones like I.