Helter Skelter

I am trying to make sense of the strangest conversation I've ever had
With an old friend who is lost and seems to have gone mad.
I'm beggining to think that sanity is not Real Life.
Trying to reconcile memories with reality.

"She's well aquainted with the touch of a velvet hand
Like a lizard on a window pane.
A man in the crowd with the mulitcolored mirrors
On his hobnail boots.
Laying with his eyes while his hands are busy working overtime.
A soap impression of his wife that eat ate
And donated to the National Trust."