My mind has a funny way of playing tricks on me.
I dream as if I’ve never lived and speak as if I’ve lived for centuries.

The nights are always the worst
Reminded of that blood-curdling scream I can’t help but let out a tear
My mind and body had yet to connect then
I wept as I cleaned the crimson floors and walls

Was it because I wasn’t pure enough?
Was it because I didn’t pray enough?
Was it because God had turned her back on me?
Who knows, surely not me

My mind is like a bathtub overflowing onto the cold tiled floor
Flooding into all the cracks I have yet to fill

As the sun shines down on my back I can’t help but wish for night
Day only brings heartache and the yearning for what I can’t reach

I guess my mind really does play tricks on me.