I've been trying to
make something of myself.
But when I look all I can find,
is the lives I've made up in my mind
Spilling out.

And I wonder,
If I never told a lie again,
Would I do better, at keeping my friends?
Or would I still drive them all away
Anyway,

Three years in and I stopped thinking,
A couple more and
it just spills out, people and places and things I've never
seen or done, but,
if everyone believes you is it true?

I was scared before but,
not anymore and,

That's why I cant decide on you
If you're true or real or know anything about me,
or if it's just another perception of me
Created as a fantasy, turned my reality.