He’s only a bit

And he’s only a piece

 

He’s a fractured memory in the mind of a time-traveling boy

 

He’s a broken part of sadness and confusion

He’s a broken part of misery and convulsion

He’s a concussion

He’s a heart attack

He’s a cigarette

He’s always there and never new

He’s the breaking point of everything good

 

He’s the broken one

He’s the damaged part

He’s the always everything

 

He’s the empty apartment

He’s the changing the bed sheets

He’s the coffee-stained teeth

 

Fluttering heart beats

And breaking heartbeats

And everything else that goes too

 

He’s the part of the boy

The time-traveling boy

The ugly boy

 

He’s the part of him

 

There’s the decision maker

There’s the one who calls for the goods

There’s the god

The god that makes him who he is

 

The him he is

Is the him he is

And they are us

And we are falling down the stairs

 

 

The detective man

The smoking man

The drinking man

The coffee man

 

The man he’s not

The man he wants to be

 

The man who drives like a lunatic

The man who carries a gun

The man who’s lived

 

The man who never cries

The man who never dies

The man he called Lane Laszlo

 

The man who goes

And never knows

And always moves

And never dies

 

Lane Laszlo

 

Lane Laszlo is the him he wants to be

He’s the him who knows the secret of Everything

 

He’s the detective

He’s the P.I.

He’s the dick

 

He’s the way he never was

 

He’s the way he wanted to be

 

He’s a combination

He’s a fragmented reflection

He’s a breaking point

He’s a nervous twitch

He’s a paranoia salad

He’s a stream of consciousness

He’s a manipulated memory

He’s an exploited thought

He’s a stolen story

 

He’s a creation

He’s a figment

He’s fleeting

 

He’s Lane Laszlo

But he won’t be forever

And that’s the way it is

 

That’s the way it always is

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