Phaedrus (An Introduction)

Johnny, can you hear me?
Is that you out there?
Are you with somebody else?
'Cause I don't know if I could take it
And I can feel you near me
Swaying there to the beat
Singing me a lullaby
Still I can't get no relief
So where is my peace?
If not whole, why not a piece?

I am the son of Sylvia on Sycamore Springs
Born 9 days late, February '88
I threw the flaming flask
Molotov, no cracks
Just spinning lying there as flames spread to the grass
Brought out the Bonneville
Bound for better weather
I never made it
And everyday I see the scars and feel the grief of the blow
I took the pills
Killed whatever pain there remained and sat dazed
Burying all the trouble that way
Until the trouble at bay found its way out the grave
And haunted me just like a phantom that was hungry, enraged
But who am I?
Who am I?