By Christopher Munroe
People are strange, when you’re a stranger.
Faces look ugly, when you are ugly.
Women seem wicked, when you are wicked.
Streets are an evil place, when you’re evil.
When you’re strange, faces come out and are strange.
When you’re strange, no one remembers you’re strange.
When you’re strange.
When you’re strange…
Or something like that. I’ll admit, I’ve never paid close attention to the song.
I did enough drugs in high school to believe Pink Floyd were the greatest band in history, but I didn’t, and will never, do enough drugs to believe that Jim Morrison was a poet…
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