And what does it mean,
To be truly empty,
Completely susceptible on all sides,
Would you sing in sick lunacy,
Trading glances with only,

A mirrored version of yourself,
would it all suddenly make sense,
In climactic waves,
Like piercing truth,
And when it sunk down,
Would you believe all those lies,

Taken away by deceit,
Searching the world to believe,
In something...

Then it hits into full spin,
And I'm at it again,
A craziness built up inside of me,
Is it me?
In this little...
Or is it better asking who are they,
Quietly and running along the edges,
Across seams of soaring skies,
Coming right and saying it,
What does it all mean?
Forgetting place in the line,
Trying to rationalize all the belief,
Asking who am I and who are you
Completely backwards,
Who am I to be asking?