I spied a rabbit in the rain
He froze in my presence
Wondering if ****** was my aim
And I thought about his lot in life

Was he far from home?
Or was a warm, dry place near?
Could his belly be full?
Did he know the pain of hunger?

I terrified him
Though I did not try
His heart beat faster as he ran
While I sighed and went inside
I just sighed and went inside

You need a compression
Of the mind
You need effemeral
To hide your signs

Stop their intrusion
In your special brain
Control your alphawaves
In the psychic sparring room

A telepathic link
Can slow his heart
Or with wrath
You can blow his head apart

*"My art
My art keeps me sane...
My art..."

I asked the old man,
"What age are you in dreams?"
The man, now 93, said "19"

In dreams we create scenes
From our own archeives
For better or worse
In terror and triumph
They are inside our minds

I can see myself how I want to be
I can see things they can't see

But, Lo! The horrors I have
Are just as great

In a moment of intimacy
We exchanged pleasantries
When the vibe was ready
I spoke a rememberance

When I thought you were gone
Forever my guard was dead
But that sweet pastel feeling
Found its way in me again

You've got that kind of power
And you know where we end
Pick it up like hot lead
Without saying what was dead

Cloaked in pedals
Tame the energy
Sweeping and striking
Bending in time

In repetition of truth
Truth is revealed
Veins of metal
Break the brain seal

Cloaked in effects
Wield electric whips
Sqeezing my mind
'Til my fingers drip

I'm dressed as drab as the sky
With the sun soaking wet
I breathe out a sigh
In a room alone
But with a second set of my eyes

He sits here and I sit there
Our eyes refuse to meet
One of us is right, you know
It's just a question of when we'll see

I'll let him hang around for now
And think what he wants to think
Because I know I'm fine
Even if he's on the brink

He was your silver medal
A consolation prize in my eyes
Nowhere near the best you can do
And you knew it to

Now in your days of freedom
With blood and sweat in your pen
The gold medal is just out of reach
Or so it seems again

What worked on all the rest
Won't melt the heart in a golden chest
For he knows all of your crimes this time
And you know them to

It must be strange trying to prove yourself
In a life spent feeling proven
What's worse is knowing anyone but me
Will be your silver medal