Contrary to what you may think, I am no goldmine. I'm a lost soul flaying about in a fishbowl, like in that song, only alone. Contrary to what you see, I am not happy. I lose butterflies in the sand and simply watch from under kohl margined eyes. Contrary to what you've heard, I don't say much. I wait for your words to reach me and then disappear. You'd like to know me, I know. But aren't we terribly short of time?