Someday I'm afraid I'll wake up br To find out that I'm not me any longer; br That I've become a stranger- br Or more like a nodding acquaintance- br But still not really me anymore. br br Once I dreamed I was at the store, br Where I used my credit card, and when I signed br The signature slip, I realized at that instant br That I had forgotten how to write like me- br And perhaps even, br What name to put down there? br br The world is so full of things not-us, br We are like a fly speck on society, br Or a one-celled amoeba within creation, br And the fact that we exist at all is an enigma, br An implausible, unbelievable paradox br That strains imagination.