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I sit in near darkness No light in the room except For an incense candle or two Here and there And a black light Here and there. Here I sit, in the company of David Bowie Sort of. Staring at a poster of the man As a CD is blasting through my ears. Sometimes it's too loud through my headphones But I guess I'll worry about that In my golden years. After all, it sounds better that way. What am I listening to? Most of my Bowie albums are on vinyl So I have only a few CD's. But which one am I listening to? Is it Earthling, Station to Station, Aladdin Sane? It all depends on my mood, I guess. I sit and think of a lot of things Maybe of the day's events Or of things I won't say here Or maybe of the Thin White Duke Staring at me from my wall. Bowie makes one think differently I have learned a lot from Major Tom My mind awoke to creativity one day Creativity in myself and in other people. Yes, Ziggy has also made me realize That doing your own thing is okay And you don't have to give a shit About what other people say. I sit here for an hour or sometimes longer Just ripping through my Bowie collection Listening to what I feel like Until the candle has lost its glow And sometimes even then I will continue Here I sit, in the company of David Bowie Sort of. Finally, the day has taken its toll on me And this Bowie Girl will grow drowsy Then I will finally put the albums away for the night And put away my CD player for the night I take one last look at the poster on the wall Blow out the candle And go to bed. Only to find myself tomorrow night Doing the same thing again and really digging it - Here I sit, in the company of David Bowie Sort of.
