I could climb into a paper sack,
Post myself away and never come back,
Far from things of which I need to keep track.
Travel by rail, road and sea.
Everyone would just leave me be.
And when I was travelling in my paper sack
I would not know forwards and I would not know back,
Not know anything but the darkest pitch black.
Would not see, just feel.
I could find out what was real.
And I would think of climbing from my sack,
Standing up tall and straightening my back,
Stretching my arms and legs, hearing my bones crack.
And I would stay quiet and still.