What worse concession is there, than to smile at our daydreams?
If my prayers are a betrayal, who's the traitor, who's betrayed?
If it's just a flight of fancy, please don't leave me to my daydreams.
If I lose the mind I valued, will I wish my soul had stayed?

In the grand scheme, on the grand stage, in a world where I'm forgotten,
My convictions are of value, my delusions, maybe not.
Is it culture, God, or people that can't stand to be forgotten?
I don't want to be remembered for sweet dreams I soon forgot.

We're alone, at last, forever, is there meaning in the windstorms?
Are my questions well constructed, and what's more, should they be posed?
And I'll never find find the answer if I gaze into the windstorms.
Let books be put away for now, and open forums, closed.

Leave my questions to the gales and my delusions to the churches.
There's no place here for my lies, not those I hear or those I tell.
If I'm kneeling in infernos, pull me burning, from the churches.
Let me build until I blister. Wind and rain, or man and hell.

Where does faith become deception?
Can my life be saved by lies?
Is this life flawed at conception?
Is it hell if no one dies?

I'm a doll, today, tomorrow.
If you hurt me, I won't care.
Yours to ****, to lend, to borrow.
Shoot me now, I'm unaware.

Leave me bleeding and betray me.
If you hate me, I won't feel.
Measure, slice, condemn or weigh me.
Come on, shoot me! I'm not real.

I can bend, or break, or shatter,
I'm a phantom, I can't cry.
**** me here, it doesn't matter.
Leave me hanging, let me die.

A girl plays a game.
A boy dances in vain.
Her revenge is the same.
And her lines betray pain.

And the game is a lie.
And the lights fade too fast.
Since her anger won't die,
Her redemption can't last.

While the story is spun,
It's a story he fights,
The crusade will be won,
As she wilts in his lights.

Hear the boast of a fool,
In defense of the same.
Is she frightened or cruel?
Actors playing hell's game.

Throw a stalemate on stage,
Force a dancer to act,
Curtains can't contain rage,
Drama bleeds into fact.

And the villain will die,
On the stages, in the lights.
But the play is a lie,
On and on, the world fights.

And you're not who I pretend, who I love, to no avail.
And you say that I'm a friend, but I cower as you fail.

And your mercy carves a fool,
And my cowardice is cruel.

And the fires that can't follow, never laughing as I flee.
And pretending and forgetting pleading, crying, hard to see.

And you're less than I pretend, friends are scarred, my hands are burned.
And you say that I'm a friend, lost or living, now returned

Would a captive daydream say.
She was nothing to betray.

Loving ghost and perfect daydream, cruel sadistic, perfect still.
And the friend who once betrayed you now turns to her own free will.

She's as dead, will I? pretend, holy image, sacred lands.
Fraud, fear, fight, force, fire friend, marred ideals and stolen hands

And my fears can not be braved
And my ghost can not be saved.

She could teach if phantoms listen, she could dance, she doesn't choose.
She'll embrace love, lies, and folly, final dance, her love to lose.