The one other night...

Like each night... I slept.
One time I woke up, but not entirely.

I found myself at a psychic prison for small mediums at large.

Make little things count: teach midgets math.
That was the slogan for their education centre.

I found one midget who managed to climb the fence. As he descended he just stared at me and sneered. I thought that was a little condescending

So then this guy with an ejaculation problem came from nowhere....
He said he was a magician. He walked down the street and turned into a grocery store
I saw this and went "Wow. That's clever word play..."
Some other random blind dyslexic old man who heard this commotion, asked me if I have heard about the mexican train killer.
I said I didn't. What was the issue?
And he said "I dunno.... He had loco motives"
Then the blind dyslexic old man walked into a bra to order binger gear.

I wanted to leave that place and saw a bike... It didn't want to stand on its own because it was two tired...
As I turned around I wondered why the baseball was getting bigger.... Then it hit me

I woke up by a guy who told me "you're in trouble" I asked why and he said it was a bladder problem. "Urine trouble" he yelled again, then paused and realized he was yelling in the wrong ward and moonwalked away.
Getting fed up by spending another crazy time in the hospital I left and went to the park.
I got this plan you see.... I wrote a song about tortillas.
Its actually more like a wrap.

To get back to the midgets. Have you even noticed how little dwarves and midgets have in common?
And mentioning dwarves... when ever one approaches you and says "I am not happy", you should ask him which one he is then.

Sigh..... I should do stand up laying down.
It's when I think the most.

"Hello people... Can you see how excited I am to be here?" and then flop down on the park bench.
I believe I would be a terrible stand-up, lying down.

When I lay down I also think of the good things living in Switzerland.
I often ask myself "what are the good points about that country?"
I don't know... but the flag is a big plus.

So after visiting the park I went back to my job at the little psychic prison and found they had a funeral for the one who climbed the fence. He wanted back in but his body was cut in two when he fell. His whole left side was cut off, so he is all right now.
On his gravestone he always wanted it to say "We are born naked, wet and hungry. Then things get worse." I guess his life could have been a bit longer...
The guy giving the eulogy was just talking too much and then I realized there are two kinds of people who don’t say much: those who are quiet and those who talk a lot. I decided to leave that morbid place and just go somewhere else but how do I say that since at a funeral it is the only place where "I'm sorry" and "I apologize" does not mean the same thing...

I just left but my mind raced. If that little guy got burnt to death, would he have gotten a discount at the crematorium?

Walking back home I also thought about how much I have progressed with my own issues.
I never used to finish sentences, but now I