Connect the dots And wavering lines Make them look better And seem stronger But isn't that just appearance? A connection we can see Just what's on the surface We can't see if it's really there We don't really know We rarely do Which is why we say We're all geniuses Is faking knowledge Smarter than really knowing? Or is it just real Just fake I, for one, don't really know I never do these days Because these days themselves Don't even know anymore What is up, and down And inside out Is it fake? Real? I can't tell Truths and lies are spider's webs Laced fingers Lolling heads Lazy afternoons Stressed nights Love Loss Fear Delight A winter's day A summer's night Ideals, endeavors Hopes and dreams Wishes, hearts And ripping seams I could never sew Very well That wasn't me And it never will be I'm running out of characters We have a limited amount Now, you see Because sometimes it's just too much For all us geniuses.