And where is your life
After you have faked death?
(I can hear the whispers)
I send myself notes to find
And surprise myself with.

Even though I lost my friends,
Even though I am just a shadow
Of my former self,
Suddenly here in the mist
I see them all nameless.
And in the mist where madmen
Believe in dreams and scare
Away hapless prayers,
Suddenly I cant tell if my
Arrogance was elegant
Or simply a fools sacrament.

Perhaps-maybe
I will pulled the switch
At my own execution and stand here
Alone searching for love
Among the thorns,
Alive but Ded,
And maybe someone will give
A **** enough to stop me
From further looking like
The insane narcissistic man
I believe myself to be.

Still I feel compelled to teach
A parrot a badword or two,
Never again will anyone mourn
Over me,
Sad because the tears brought me
Such a sorrowful joy.