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Speak to Me

There are lots of normal people that you love to meet and greet,
then thereís the ones, as they get near, you try to cross the street.
You know their endless rantings will drive you round the bend,
why is it that these type of folk treat all just like a friend?

I know Iím one of these queer folk who pester everyone,
but theyíre not friends, I know that most would rather I be gone.
Why is it then that I insist in stopping you to talk,
and make full sure Iíve had my say, before I let you walk?

Is it because I think I know some things that you do not,
or just because I really feel that you like me a lot?
Maybe my thirst for knowledge is what I have to gain,
or hope that you will sympathise with all my earthly pain.

You never know, maybe I think my preaching will get through
to help you lead far better lives in everything you do.
But by your faces, I can tell I havenít got there yet,
I know what you all think or me, that Iím a sad old get.

So tell me why I speak to all I meet each single day
and people scatter everywhere if I should come their way?
The answers plain, now donít you know?  It isnít just a fad,
the reasons very clear to seeÖ  Iím simply ĎRaving Madí!

Ivor G Davies

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