Lack of Iron and/or Sleeping

What does it mean, what does it mean, what does it mean?
Everything is hidden. I won't say the words - but oh, how I have wanted to.
It wouldn't matter. No, it wouldn't matter. Would it matter?
Even if I were to shout them out there, and by some divine miracle, some impossible chance, they were to be returned - what would it mean?
What of the other thing - the secret that I know, that no one knows that I know?
So many reasons and regrets, so many reasons to disappear.

Maybe it is just... well, what the title says.

Even if I had what I wanted in my hands right now, even if my dreams could come true - what would it mean? What does it mean, that I have to wonder that?
Would I trust it to be truth? Or would I doubt, as I have always?
Oh, pity pity pity
Don't pity me
Would - well, I can't say, in such a public place.
But still more doubts, still more doubts, ever more doubts.
It doesn't much matter, I tell myself - what use is wondering of a future, when so uncertain of the present?
but what if what if what if
Should I?
Oh doubt, you cowardly foe, you have beaten me yet again.
If I said it, what would the consequences be? If I don't?

So many paths, forever unknown, what lies down the one not taken.
But what if, what if, what if?


I am the vagabond, living in the wind, the cold night's breeze is my blanket,
the lonesome sound of nothing
is my only friend now.
And this brings peace.