Isn't it messed up
The way I only feel like somebody
The only time I truly feel real
Is when I'm someone else
In a daydream that never ends

The concept of me, of now
Is so far and distant
It echos from somewhere deep inside me
Somewhere I can't find
Somewhere I don't look

How can I do or be what's expected of me
When that person doesn't exist
How can I be the perfect child
When the only freedom I've ever known
Is when I lock myself in my minds cage?

How can I comfort someone
When all I know are phantom hugs?
How do I feel success
When every accomplishment I've achieved
Has never been enough?

What future do I look to
When all my dreams are trampled on
By people who can't see what I do, but know better
Why is life only worth living
When I block it out with make-believe?