Life is simply an extended period of trying to prove you're not alone.

The brightest part of a shadow is in the center
Science tells us
that the light dances and refracts
and hugs the curves
What our truths tell us should be darkness
proves us wrong

I know your heart
How you close yourself
to people
to experiences
But your resistance is still broken
by your light
What your truths tell us should be darkness
proves us wrong
The brightest part of a shadow is in the center

I'm scared for my sanity.
I'm scared for my family.
I'm scared for the future me.
I'm scared of who I used to be.

Used to be sleeping sweet,
But now I dream of city streets
In a town where I'm alone,
Don't got no home --
And I wake to find reality's not far off...

Late night conversations with the one who shares my DNA
Are frightening to me, and now I want to run away
Out into the woods where solitude will comfort me,
But the shadow me will follow shortly,
Yeah, I know she'll surely come for me --

'Cause I can run, but I just can't seem
To hide away from the me inside of me.

I fear for my daughter.
I fear for my son.
I fear for the moment the war is truly won.
I fear that I will live to see the day my shadow dies,
And end up feeling empty inside, despite...

Take me away from here.
Help me swallow all my fear.
Give me sight so I may see
All that lies ahead of me.
Allow me to set my soul free!

*Who is this person I call "me"?

I decided to breathe today,
To fill my lungs with that invisible, life-giving substance
That I've never really known before.

But now I do, I know it well,
For it has caused my lungs to swell,
And, well,
It got me feeling pretty compelled
To write this down so I could tell
Of the swell of my lungs
That I just felt.

And what's fascinating is that I wasn't consuming air,
I was breathing in life for the very first time.
Inhale truth, exhale death.

Awake. Awake. Awake.

Oh, I want to be more than a pile of bones and air,
Floating away into the atmosphere.

I need to be more than a heart and a face,
Let boundless life take their place.

Let my head be filled up to the brim
With that which my lungs have let in --
Let my path of life truly begin.

Alive. Alive. Alive.

No more drifting up into the sky.

And now the truth will weigh me down,
Keep my soul beneath the clouds.

**** bliss,
I'd rather be aware and alive
Than ignorant and dormant.
We were put here for more.

I want to be more than this.

Awake. Awake. Awake.
Alive. Alive. Alive.
Awake. Awake. Awake.
**Alive for all my life.

And I'm here in this little glass house,
On display for the robots next-door --
The last of human life
Trapped in a box with translucent locks
In this paradisiacal paradox.

The suburbs are where dreams go to die.
Look at that cool-guy dad of three
With a car from 1970
Who doesn't get a wink of sleep,
And for dinner he eats batteries.

He wasn't supposed to be like this,
Spending more time with his therapist
Than with his mechanizing kids.

Love is sending them as far away as possible
Before they're condemned to your same tragic fate.

Their precious internal organs are slowly being swapped and traded with engine parts,
So that their chests hum rather than beat --
And wheels are used more often than feet.

Extension cords for intestines
And oil for blood,
Plug them in to sleep at night
So that they may be fully charged and operational tomorrow.

They are constantly being programmed in the greatest form of mass production known to man.
(Well, what's left of him.)

Cookie cutter children with magnetic hands,
Always grabbing and attracting new parts to attach to themselves.
Chewing microchips like bubblegum,
Transferring data as a form of fun.

It's "cool-guy dad 2.0."
He's outdated now,
Useless apart from nurturing the new generation that will ultimately cause his demise.

Oh, what a time to be alive.
To be a human on display in an industrial neighborhood.
(And don't even get me started on the soccer moms.)

The time is exactly two forty-five,
And I’m out here alone
Below the February sky
Just trying to find a way to feel alive.
-
You know what that’s like?

I got my headphones on,
Dressed to un-impress,
Playing my current favorite song
With my hair all in a mess.

And you’re on my mind again,
Like an imaginary friend
That I just can’t seem to grasp.
Are you fiction, are you fact?
-
You’re everything that I lack.

And I’m in a place that I can’t describe,
Swaying to the music
At two forty-five.
The longer I’m alone,
The longer I’ll survive,
So I’ll dance the night away
Beneath this February sky.

And then the cops drive by
On this cool February night,
And you’re still not in sight -
All I can see is flashing lights.

And they stop and ask if everything’s alright,
Ask how many drinks I’ve had this night.
I just keep swaying and sigh
Because I’ll never get it right,
-
And all of this is just a waste of their time.

So I say,
“Sorry officer,
I’m not drunk,
I’m just psychotic.”

And they look into my eyes,
And much to their surprise,
I’m simply sober, and alive
Below the February sky.

Then I take their hands and pull them with me,
Although they can’t hear the song,
And they try to fight, but I don’t let them,
I just laugh and sing along.

The time is roughly three o’five,
And I’m being detained
Under the silver moonlight.
And the February sky watches on…

I guess you’ll never know quite what it’s like,
No, you’ll never know what this feels like.