You haven't heard the sweetest sound
Until you've listened to a song
Played on piano
And sung with true feeling
You haven't heard this song before
Have you?

If I told you
That I was going to
Take My Leave
Would you miss me?
Would you try to force me to stay?
Even if I had no use
Was a toy,
Broken beyond repair?
And so I Take My Leave
For just a little while at least
While I sort myself out
And let my toy maker
Tinker with his more reasonable creations

If this is the end
Please make it subtle
If this is the end
Don't threaten me with childish lies
If this is the end
Then I shall miss the beginning, the middle, but certainly not the end.

There once was a lazy little man
With a lazy little nostril
One lazy little day
The lazy little nostril
Decided to stop working
And that lazy little man
Never saw the rest of that
Lazy little day

The Puppeteers Master
Controlling all his strings
All his movements
All his thoughts
But never the Puppeteers Puppets

The Puppeteers Puppets
Being controlled by the already controlled
Their strings tugging and pulling
To be free
To be honest to themselves

The Puppeteer
Stuck in between
Never allowed freedom
Never giving freedom
But always thinking
About what it'd be like
Being the ultimate Master of everyone else

The World is as of what you make it;
Would you like it to be a cheerful place?
Then The World is happy, as you make it that way.

The World is as of what you make it;
Would you like it to be an immature place?
Then The World is your playground, as you make it that way.

The World is as of what you make it;
Would you like it to be a creepy place?
Then The World is an Addams Family look-a-like, as you make it that way.

*The World is as of what you make it.
Have fun with it.

This place;
It's full of the weird and the wonderful
This place;
It's creatures are more amazing than I've ever seen
This place;
It's got the style that got its unique tag
This place;
It's full of the weird, the wonderful and *us.

Though I am, and forever shall be imperfect,
There is someone who takes those 'faulties'
And turns them into quirks.

Though I am, and forever shall be impossible,
There is someone who takes those 'quirks'
And turns them into fun.

Though I am, and forever shall be quiet
There is someone who takes that 'fun'
And turns it into a game.

Though I am, and forever shall be easily pleased
And eagerly smiles,
There is someone out there
Who accepts it all as a *game.

What if you were to dream,
And everything was perfect,
Would you wake up,
And think,
'What if I were to dream perfectly again?'

I wonder what it's like
To be trusted with a secret so secret
That no one else but me
Has been told?

A bombs gotta explode someone, sweetie
Otherwise it could be dangerous in the wrong hands
Move away before it burns the skin
And kills your organs
Move further,
You don't want to be hit by shrapnel
Even that's dangerous you know?

Sometimes you never feel good enough.
That everyone hates you.
Is judging for the expression you wear,
Or the shoes on your feet,
The clothes on your body,
Your music taste and how well you can make friends.
I get that all the time.
Never feeling good enough defines my darkest thoughts.
The shadows that cling to the invisible mass of my very mind.
Will I ever be good enough?
Will my expression ever be pretty enough?
My shoes expensive enough?
My clothes hip enough?
The music and friends pop enough?
Then these thoughts clear sometimes.
Sometimes.

Love, hate,
Whisper, dare
Dance, sing,
Kiss, stare
Push, shove,
Pull, it's only fair
Look, shy away,
From that man's lair
You know,
The one with the hair
Kids, jeer,
Point, and lastly *rave

Trying to grab words
And force them into something
Worth meaning
Worth making
Instead, getting this.
A not-worth-your-time thing
A sentence built on sentence
Without a reason behind it.

I'm the adult of sophistication,
The evolving dreams of kids,
Asleep and high and drunk,
Of the promise of the end of time,
Where birds are skeletal creatures,
With blood for wings and beaks of gold.