Secret Other People

This is just a conversation between you and me
I talk to people that other's cannot see
I know I am mad, and I know they're in my head
But sometimes it's easier to talk to them instead.
Instead of real people, instead of life,
Instead of those who wouldn't understand my strife
Because these people inside, they're made of me,
And that is why its so incredibly easy
To forget everything that is real and true
To instead concentrate on what makes me blue
For blue is the colour of my mind and soul
Blue is the colour that makes me whole
Its not the colour of the sky overhead,
In Scotland the sky is grey instead,
Grey clouds and grey rain and grey mist,
Hidding the white sun that is always missed.
Missed by everyone except me and my friends,
We'll banter always until the very end
Just because I have a rabbit to talk to
Doesn't mean I have other friends - they're just not you
Instead they are folk who are pieces of me
And that is why I can forget them so easily