Here it is now but soon it'll be gone.
I won't lament the loss:
I'm moving on.
Everything I've ever known has come back more than twice.
It's a boomerang effect, and sometimes it's nice.
Though sometimes I do I lose myself
in wishing it would stay,
but the night has got to end at some point.
Tomorrow's a new day.

I slid down the tunnel like a morsel down a throat.
It's true what he said:
Down Here They All Float
I felt all my hair rise up in static.
I almost forgot that breathing was automatic,
and in between breaths I felt so close to death.
Suffocating as I wondered if I'd ever come back.
A sound like a freight train shook my whole frame.
A hive of cicadas roared in my brain.
It's true what they say:
This Is How It Feels To Go Insane

I am the King of Mixed Messages.
The Duke of Indecision.
The Prince of Sheer Panic facing a life sentence in prison.

I've sabotaged my subjects;
****** on the peasants.
I'll admit my reign of terror hasn't been none too pleasant.

I was the Monarch of Mayhem;
the Baron of Bones,
but some shining knight pulled a coup and now I'm left here dethroned.

Something in the way that . . .
something that was said.
I don't know if I ever knew a way to not feel dead,
but everything is swirling.
Everything at once.
I lost my mind a couple times just to rise up from the swamps.
These reeds do leave their marks.
This mud has ****** the color.
I'll sleep beneath the cypresses to feel closer to mother.
She speaks to me in dreams of things that only once were hinted.
How shall I ever get along after being so afflicted?

I used to write my dreams down
until you showed up.
Now thinking about them just hurts too **** much.

Hide in obscurity.
Cryptic visage.
Anonymous shimmer.
Arcane mirage.

Be the enigma.
Wear the unknown.
Always a question mark.
Forever alone.

Let me immerse myself in you.
We'll trade sweet nothings and believe them to be true.
I want the full experience;
don't hold anything back.
The concrete to crumble underneath the abstract.
Your pattern overlaid onto my nonbeing.
Can you glimpse the nonthings I can't believe we are seeing?
Incredible vibrations of our bodies in synch.
I want to hear every cell of your wrought body sing,
and swim in the depths of the futures to come.
Right now our two separate souls are but one.

I cried inside my car today.
I cried while I thought of the things I would say when the one that I love questions me about the one I made love to.
(I didn't want to do it. I'm crazy about you.)
"You make me feel like a little kid again."
"You make me feel like magic is real."
"It kills me that you have a boyfriend."
It kills me that this isn't real.
None of this is going to happen.
I cried inside my car today.

I swear I used to care
before I met you.
There was nothing left
after all you put me through.
They say I'm better off
but I seriously doubt it.
You stole all of my sympathy
and now I'm lost without it.

So I'm stuck with my Strange
I've learned to embrace it.
They say, "Cool your jets;
Youre acting insane."
I say so be it.
I'll love the deranged.
I'm a cracked flower vase with some spray painted lilacs in it.
Spread me out amongst the fakes and I'll vainly attempt to pollinate them.
I had to learn how to drown before I could swim.
All life changing decisions are made on a whim.
Give me a chance and I'll make you regret it.
I'll pull out all the stops so you'll never forget it.
"There once was this kid . . ."
"I once knew this man . . . "
Where is he now?
Whatever happened to him?

She told me to stay but I got lost in the echo.
Sometimes I can't help it,
I've just got to let go.
And she shined through the chasm like a sun's ray through clouds.
I always wonder what she could be up to right now.
But no, it's not me,
and loneliness stings.
Wherever you aren't is where I'll always be.

I gave her a sign.
Delivered it twice.
Her sympathy is boundless;
she was always so nice.

Hip to the trip as we both drop our objects.
Clumsiness is one way of saying I Love You.
Speech dissolved a long time ago; became an excuse for just staring.
I cannot seem to convince myself of no longer caring.

"Adore me!"
"You bore me,"
and I am not like that.
Domestic goddess take a hike;
please get off my back.

"Ignore me!"
"No problem,"
I said into the wind.
So much for happy endings;
now let the truth sink in.

When I was six I ate a fish that tasted like my future,
and presently I'm telling her that things are starting to feel unreal again.
"Shhhhhh.
Rest your twisted head."
I said she gave me this wicked vessel,
and that I hate her for it.
She said,
"I know darling.
That's why you're my favorite."

How did it happen?
I didn't even like you at first,
and now you're the first thing I think of when I wake up,
if I wasn't already dreaming of you while I slept.
When I look into your eyes I feel short of breath.

I want you the way suicidals want death.

But I cannot have you, and I resent the fact
that you somehow stole my heart and now won't give it back.
And yet, if I had you I know I wouldn't want you anymore.
I'd come to loathe you in the way that a child hates chores.
But you've melded to my mind;
you're burned into my brain.

I want you the way that a moth wants the flame.

It's a paradoxical ache.
A feeling so strange.
In the English language it doesn't even have a name,
but I believe this is what the french refer to as
the exquisite pain.

It took me a fortnight to figure out how long a fortnight is.
I'd been meaning to investigate ever since that skinny kid
who spoke in six dimensions mentioned it.
He explained it like this:
Floating spheres enveloped in a clear liquid
some clustered together, some separated from the others
each moving at a different pace
each with its own gravity
and sometimes a slew of unbound orbs will give chase
to one that goes speeding by
and sometimes two will collide, or three, or four, or more
somtimes two will spiral around each other
getting closer and closer while spinning faster and faster
until they nearly touch but then go speeding off
in opposite directions as if polarity had suddenly been reversed
sometimes two will spin together and burst
with more marbles spilling out from the eruption
some globes explode with a force of their own
taking out all that surround it
still others quietly blip out of existence
leaving behind nothing but a ripple in the clear goo
that binds them all together.
They told me he was crazy, but I thought that I knew
"You're talking about the cosmos, aren't you?"
"No," he said
then flicked his head
"I'm talking about people."

Staring back into nothing
I felt a compulsion to fall
It felt like my spirit was leaving my body
It felt like my soul was drowning
inside of myself
and I thought

If nature is heaven
then concrete is hell

In the face of
a neon ancient god
once worshipped by the indigenous
peoples of the amazon
I had a sense that He was angry with me
that I'd done something wrong
He took something from me
but I don't know what it was
and I thought

If I'm just a stack of molecules
then I'm falling apart

I pooled into my shoes
which sunk into the earth
and I thought

If I ever have to die again
then I'll pass on rebirth

When I'm falling fast, and it gets real bad;
I go through my chopped up and blended days awaiting one thing:
For someone to come up,
put their hands on my shoulders,
and shake me vigorously.

I can hear them yelling (or screaming) at me.
They're saying:
"What the hell are you doing!
What the **** is your problem!?
Why are you doing this to yourself?
It's sad and pathetic. I'm sick of it.
It makes me angry.
Just stop it!
Stop it already!"

I'll attempt to explain, through the shakes, with a ******* answer,
but they won't have any of it.

"You're fine! Okay?
There's nothing wrong with you!
There is absolutely nothing wrong with you!
You're just ******* scared!
You hear me,
tough guy?
You're a ******* coward!
Grow up.
Man up.
Just stop it already.
Enough is enough.
Just stop."

And it's like somehow, if this were to happen, I'd suddenly be fixed.
As if in the shaking,
the ***** that had come loose would get knocked back into its groove.

Except, the thing is, that this does happen.
It's happening practically the whole time.
Only, not in the exact way that you pictured it.
So you shrug it off. Dismiss it.
Because the person shaking you wasn't the one you wanted to be shaken by.
You say,
"Who the **** are they?
Who do they think they are?
To tell me off like that;
look at you!
Why would I ever consider taking advice from you.
As if you know better,
you don't know ****!
*******!"

And it's sad really,
but ultimately true.
The only person capable of doing the shaking is you.

I used to have fun
I used to take walks
I used to have something special that I feel I've since lost
But for the life of me
I couldn't tell you what it was
Youth
Vitality
Maybe a soul
Whatever happened to it
Where did it go?

and some people will, but most people won't.
I think that you might. Do you though?
I'll wish that you would.
I really do hope so.

Sometimes, when I say your name,
you wince.
(I want to force you into a corner and press up against you)
Your face in a grimace;
you cringe,
(I want to ravage you savagely)
as if you're in pain.
(I want to turn into sand and bury you alive)
(I want to take these two hands and tear you apart)
It's quite rude, really,
(I want to bite off your lips and devour your heart)
but I don't hold it against you.
It seems involuntary.
(I want to explode on you then swallow what's left)
I think there might be something wrong with you.
(I want to **** all the life right out of your breath)
More than anything though,
(I want to turn into a river and drown you in the flood)
I'd like to know
(I want to spread through your body, bones, and blood)
why.

I've been thinking:
Maybe I should get clean
and do things that I've been meaning to do for ages.
Face this wasted use of
faithless self-abuse and try something new
more in tune with truth.
Get fit and quit these substances.
Toss off these over-abundances.
Catch some calm and put a halt to this being wild.
Stop forcing laughs and faking smiles.
Make a path to find some inner-peace.
Get some rest and set this mind at ease.

Empathy is a curse,
but apathy is surely worse.
Make me feel something when I feel hollow.
Get away from me when it's too hard to swallow.

If I told you that you're perfect,
would you believe it's true?
No, of course not. I mean, maybe so,
but it wouldn't be enough for you.
Just one man's opinion;
you need global recognition
to prove that you have value.

It makes me kind of sad,
but I've never had ambition of that sort,
so if you'd like, I could help you.
We could make it work.

With your style, and grace,
(and those big brown eyes, and that beautiful face)
along with my words,
(your silk ribbon of a voice)
and my keyboard;
I swear to God we could make it work.

A partnership to stack the cards:
Aimless Asteroid and Shooting Star.
You'll always burn brighter, but I don't care.
I swear,
together we could go far.

I heard her sing a silent song.
By the time I'd learned the words,
she was already gone.

She wasn't here for very long,
but I am still haunted by her verse.
I heard her sing a silent song.

It resonated in my bones.
I vibrated with yearning.
She was already gone.

A mute melody to quell the dawn,
and keep the world from turning.
I heard her sing a silent song.

Like a whisper from the moon to hold back the sun,
I close my eyes and I’m no longer sure
if she's really gone.

Imprinted in the earth after the eclipse was done;
her lyrics washed up on the shore.
I heard her sing that silent song,
but she was already gone.

I had a dream that you were larger than life.
I slipped in through your mouth
to learn the secret of your insides.
You spat me out.
I fell.
You caught me with hands the size of clouds,
then stuck me in a cage with a yellow canary.
I had to eat the bird to stay alive.
You're a neglectful pet owner.
Now I'm  trapped here
with no company.
I long to be free.
I cannot fly;
I never sing,
but it would be alright
if you'd just look at me.

My body is a vessel
A teapot, if you will
With my spirit boiling deep inside
Drink from it if it soothes you

And if it suits you
Then wear it with pride
I bare my scars with arms wide open
To embrace you when you need it
Warm you up when you feel frozen

Because truth be told
This life can be cold
And I'm so tired of shivering
So let's wake up, and spread this love
It's a message worth delivering

Sometimes I burn with passion
It makes me cry and think I'm crazy
But it also makes me feel alive
Let's start this fire, baby

Because passion is where it's at
We'll take our freedom back
What's that? You've got a great idea?
Oh yea, let's all do that!

I will spread my opinions like a plague,
which is exactly how they'll paint them.
By "them" I mean the proverbial "they."
The ones who will color me as paranoid and insane.

They'll say not to listen;
to disregard it all.
It's the nature of the games they play.
They push us to the edge,
Then publicize the fall.

Do not watch the news.
Ignore all commercials.
Pursue beauty and truth;
embrace the controversial.

"Any book worth banning is a book worth reading,"
so read them all with zest.
If you get the feeling that I'm preaching,
remember,
only you know what is best.

I'm quite taken with you.
You're the apple of my eye.
Like a chocolate fudge sundae on a Friday night,
You're as sweet as pumpkin pie,
But my teeth are prone to cavities.
I dare not take a bite.

the notes rise up with the flames
And I smolder in the sound
Feel it shimmering
Warmth from inside out

As if we are connected
to everything around
floating with the fire
my feet have left the ground

and I burn

Play that song I want to hear
You play it oh so well
friends, and fire, and bottle near
I feel much better now

the glow will light our faces
This dark world will turn bright
Here we are for this one
We'll feel alive tonight

And I burn

I like you so much,
it's bound for disaster.
Let's pretend we're in a musical.
Take my hand, and we'll dance.
Let's start with the "Happily Ever After,"
and have a doomed romance.

I am guilty of projecting. I will turn you into a goddess
in my mind to deal with the anxiety of
the fact that you might actually like me. I will like you back,
to an extreme; to the point where it's scary,
so that you'll stay away from me.
"Oh yea, watch out for that one. He's crazy."

Vain girls are attracted to it.
They like the way I paint them in my dreams.
As if fulfilling their own of becoming some sort of
Aphrodite. They build their confidence off of my idolatry.
I've seen it go to their heads.
It makes me kind of sick.

I will use you. The fantastical female;
my muse. You inspire my more neurotically infused
writings, and give fire to my self-abuse.

A few times, I've gotten the one I desired. Always through my words.
Forced to deal with discrepancies between fantasies and the truth, I fall apart.
Invariably, they were emotionally damaged;
prone to crying. I'd give them my shoulder and wrestle with the thoughts
that I'd fallen for a girl so much like my mother.
**** you, Freud.

Now I know better, but I can't fight my nature.
So I've embraced it. Taken it to new heights. Turned it into an art form.
Mentally magnified mistress, watch this:
I will take everything you've ever said (which I cannot forget)
and reflect it back at you through my poetic psychotic lens
Freaky, is it not?

But it's also kind of fun.
If you can appreciate the irony,
then I think you might be the one.

All types of schizos are my friends
And I'm schizotypal too
We get together and share the crazy things in our heads
But care not about how much of it might be true

They may be a bit rough around the edges
But they're a good bunch
We focus on action; the things that we do
And try not to think too much

Most people find it bizarre
But most people bore me to death
We can't help it; we are what we are
All in love, obsessed, with insanity's depth

The violinist plays as the artist takes down his paintings.
Nothing sold today. His spiraling visions of figurative
meaning behind the sentimental moments that he can't forget
have failed to make an impact on the passers-by,
once again.
He drops meager change into the case
of the musician.

The human statue breaks her frozen form
to act out a five second tragedy as he
makes his way down the avenue;
free of charge.

His fanbase is of the kind that can only
sympathize. Endeared to him not through the way
he spreads his paint, but from his passionate speeches.
When he explains the reasons behind each minute element,
they can't help but to relate. How he reaches
to define every detail of what would otherwise be
just another memory.

We are the things that get swept under
rugs. A ***** mass that the world strives to keep
hidden. Flecks of skin and strands of hair. Toe nails. Trapped
in the carpet with the bodies of the bugs
of which we have been bitten.

Gaze not upon our swollen parts;
inflamed. Your eyes will entice us to spread
rashes. The forbidden always in our thoughts
like stubborn mattress stains.

We are the things that live in closed
closets. Tearing at the threads meant to keep you
sheathed. Disembodied torsos on wiry hooks. Scarves. Chewing
holes through the garments with worn-out teeth.

Chills will let you know we're near
as you toss and turn in bed. We are the shadows that
watch you while you sleep. Our goal is to fill you with fear.
Your soul is ours to reap.

I've got the drinks, and I've got the will
I've got the time
And expired pills

I'll use them all
To get what I want
Wait, that's not right
I mean to deal with not getting what they want

A selfish brat, maybe
Tantrums like crazy
Pouting over nothing
Poor little baby

I'm good at self-loathing
I don't need your help
I've got plenty of sedatives;
One-way tickets to hell

It's where all my friends live
I'll fit right in
We perspire and make toasts to the worst of our sins

And laugh at the people
Who spent lives longing for choirs
Up there in white-walled mansions
Built of unfulfilled desires

She sits in the crevice of her untouchable throne
A bathtub of fizz
The place she goes to be alone
As the bubbles coat her flesh, and pop on her throat
With a sensation of which I will never know

But oh how I long to be the one who sees her there
It's my one true wish
As she twists her fingers through her luxurious hair
And blows foam with a jet stream of air through her lips

I want nothing more than to be a fly on the wall
Of the room that surrounds her most intimate moments
If only I could hear her sing a beautiful song
When she thinks there's nobody around to take notice

I'll treasure it all
And bury it deep inside me
A sentimental chest of unobtainable gold
The toll one pays for a life of tragedy
The price one incurs from being alone

People, you know, are like never-ending rainbows.
Nauseating colors and no pots of gold.

People, it seems, are like toxic streams.
Flowing endlessly with waters that you can't drink.

Like piles of so many strands of straw,
hiding golden pins underneath.
If I could find one I'd ***** my fingers and bleed
all over these troublesome docile stacks.
Light it on fire and turn them to ash.

People are like so many cigarettes in a pack -
always craving another even as your insides turn black.

And people, I swear,
they act like they care,
but when push comes to shove they all cower in fear.

So people, beware!
For I am not scared.
My strength comes from inside.
I'm self-aware!

And people (me too) know not what we do.
Spend our whole lives pursuing beliefs so untrue.

That's okay, people.
I forgive you.
And through your existential struggles,
I find you beautiful.

Here's the thing about a mollusk
Sometimes from a distance you can think you've glimpsed a pearl inside
So you get closer to investigate but the thing clenches tight
It's a defense mechanism; you know this
So you fight, and struggle to get the **** thing open
Your fingers bleed
Your muscles ache
You begin to believe that it will never break
Really going through something
But right when you're about to give up, it loosens
And you gaze inside to find
Nothing
What you thought was a pearl was just a trick of the light
I've had it with this girl
It's over alright

Sometimes when a person is talking to me
And what they're saying is particularly uninteresting
They might get the feeling that I'm not listening
And it's true
Because, mentally, I'm replacing the words they say with a repetition of the phrase:
Validate me!
Validate me!
Would you date me?
******* me?
Won't you please?
Will you maybe?
And I stare back at them, stone-faced, while thinking:
No

Hey now, that was fun
It's been awhile since I could remember how it was done
In a long time, tonight has been the first
Good time that I've had where no one gets hurt

And I smiled wide
And talked too much
With so much to hide,
I'm not sure what's worse

But the smiles were genuine
The conversation was open
No judgements or complaints
Nobody on drugs, crying, or moping

And it's not hard to take
Quite easy to swallow
Let's do this again sometime
What are you doing tomorrow?

"Well hey there! How was your New Year's?"
Well, I sang a song and made a toast
To the fire in our hearts
I apologized to the host
For drinking and driving the last time I'd left
When I'm drunk I like to think that I know better than the best

I lit off fireworks with a pretty girl
We listened to James Brown while gunpowder spiders lit up the world
We took alot of shots
And sat by the fire
We talked of this, that, and the other

Later on I found my friend with his head in his hands
Crouched up against his car; crying over the dead
Lamenting that they couldn't be here for this event
And I cried a little too, because that kind of thing messes with my head

My childhood friend was also there
He had driven in from out-of-town
He was tripping on acid, and had me pinned to the ground
In an insane attempt to give me some sort of comfort
I finally got him off me with an effective headbutt

Then I ran down the street
While yelling, "I HATE EVERYTHING!"
Then slowed down to a walk after I'd gotten far enough
Smoked a cigarette and contemplated the true nature of love

So when you ask me that seemingly innocuous question
"Hey, how was your New Years? Did anything happen?"
All I can say is,
"Well, ha! It was definitely something!"

I clearly saw your drinking problem laid out next to mine
'Tis the season
No big deal
It's fun, it's harmless, it's fine

But some part of it still makes me sad
There's something I still miss
When you told me how your mother was crying
And said, "I hate seeing you like this."

You really did have a one-tracked mind
To just keep drinking more
Who the hell am I to judge
We've all been there before

I was just so tired and sad
And maybe slightly bored
Sometimes the habits that we have
Turn into such **** chores

We both know that we're better than this
Let's will it to be true
We'll leave this place together, man
And start our lives anew

Hey girl, don't get me wrong
I just think that we could be friends
It'd be nice to have a confidant again
Instead of telling strangers all of my sins
I'm ready for a new life
Just waiting to begin

I know you may find me a bit intense
Or maybe you think that I make no sense
And I'm not sure what I like about you
Your humor
Your wit
Your innocence?

Be that what it may
And me being what I am
I still want to be your friend
Do you think we can?

"If you're the least bit sensitive, this world will eat you alive."
Is it any wonder then that so many of us want to die?
But I gave up a long time ago on suicide
Such an ignoble way to say goodbye

So if I must go, I want to be beaten by some ******* while defending a woman's honor
Shot by an oppressive father for attempting to liberate his daughter
Gunned down by the government for standing up for the rights of another
I guess you could say,
I have dreams of becoming a martyr

"Only the good die young"
Only through self-sacrifice can you become
Deeply ingrained in humanities' collective brain
I want to make a difference
Before I grow old and insane

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
Lincoln
JFK
Jesus Christ
Gandhi
Joan of Arc
Tecumseh
And then there's Socrates

Somebody help me, help me please
I want so badly to die for the sake of a belief
But it's all so ****** up now
Twisted and torn
Sometimes I wish that I was never born

And there have been others who felt the same way
Vincent Van Gogh
Rothko
And Hemingway

I know it's not fair of me to say
They all lead lives wrought with such pain

Like Bradley Nowell
And Kurt Cobain
Some saw it coming
Like Mark Twain

Freedom really is a double-edged sword
After Jack Parsons blew up he left us his words
His mom OD'd shortly after having heard
Greatness can only last so long in this world

And what of Albert Camus?
Was it really unplanned?
And that poor old Nietzsche
Came so unglued at the end

And fate is really something
How can we comprehend
Some lives are surely doomed
From the moment they begin

My love for you is quite substantial
Just enough to get us by
When I'm with you, I never panic
My stomach knows no butterflies

My feelings for you are adequate
I kiss you like I do my mother
Politely, cordially, out of duty
Plainly and unpassionate

There are no ups and downs
No disbelief at what I've found
Our love is completely logical
Solid, steady, and sound

My love is understandable
Laid out, and well defined
My love is clearly tangible
No need for even trying

My want for you is sustainable
And well under control
My desire is easily satiable
Like a dead tree that no longer grows

I'll love you this way until I die
Or until the day you leave
And on that day, I will not cry
Nor shall I ever grieve

Because this kind of love is lacking passion
And without true belief
It's the kind of love you're better off without
It will never satisfy your needs

Here it is; my body of work
Lately I've been showing off the other kind
Not that I'm complaining though
It has been such a long time

So what is going on inside my head?
Feeling fear, and doubt, and nervous
Pretty soon I'll start confusing you
Accidentally on purpose

With all this space around me
How can I feel like I need more?
"You should know that I'm nothing but a lousy,
Selfish, drunken man-*****."

These and other ways to leave your lover
Before the loving even starts
Paul Simon never wrote this tune
I've got that **** on lock

Burning bridges while they're being built
Such an unsubtle self-saboteur
Way to go there hot shot
What the hell did you do that for

Lost in dreams and fantasy
I love it when real life becomes a reflection of me
To see myself in so many ways
I love the beginnings of permanent change

Like getting to the best part at the end of a chapter
The present keeps me from worrying what may come after
And it may be great, and amazing, and fine
Or it could be lame, and a complete waste of time

But I'll deal with this thing, and the rest as they come up
I feel stoic, heroic, ready, and tough
Bring on the challenge
I'll show you what I'm made of

It's times like these that I feel alive
Maybe it's because I've never been afraid to die
It's hello's that I struggle with
But I've never had trouble saying goodbye

It all reminds me of this one time
Where my whole family went along for a ride
And my dad ran a red light
And we all almost died

My mom had a mock heart-attack
And my sister, she cried
My brother got angry
And my father was silent

And I just laughed and laughed
Hysterically so
Because to die you first have to be alive
And it felt so good to know

I was probably twelve years old
But I can still recall the effect
It seems all of the times I remember most clearly
Are the times I came closest to death

But now I remember feeling so stuck in life
And letting emptiness take control
Going to work was an hour long drive
I spent it wishing for the credits to roll

Directed by the world
The setting was hell
Special thanks to my mother
Guest starring myself

I'd like to thank the academy
And the rest of the cast
"I look forward to the future"
And to leaving the past

I saw it all
Superimposed over the rest
A slow pan out from my car
As I drove into sunset

But it didn't end there
And it's not over yet
I'm still alive and kicking
Don't you forget

I've seen introverts become the center of attention
I've seen extroverts go ignored
I've heard complacent well-adjusted human beings
Cry out for something more
And there's a million and one things to do with life
So don't you dare be bored

Because there are three types of people in this world:
Those who do
Those who don't
And those who didn't, but wish they had

At times it's wrong to do what's good
Sometimes you've got to be bad
So don't you go on second guessing
Lest you end up with regret
Follow your instincts
Don't look back

'Cause there are three kinds of people on this earth:
Those in the future
Those in the past
And those in the present, so make it last

At times it happens all so fast
You forget to examine the extent of the impact
But don't you worry about forgotten things
They'll find their way back to you in your dreams

And there are those who will tell you that it's false
They'll comfort you with broken arms
To drag you down to into the swamp
Trying to stop you before you even start

Now there are three sects of people on this planet:
The leeches
The dreamers
And then the true believers

Examine your head to find the truth
Don't worry about what you can or cannot prove
Nothing matters nearly as much
As the way it all matters to you

You see, there's no right or wrong way to live a life
It all depends on how it makes you feel
The miraculous fact that you exist at all
Gives you the right to determine what is real

And there are but three animals in this pen:
The sheep
The wolf
And the Golden hen