Every time I speak, I hold a crystal lens in my mouth
And the light of who I am and what I say refracts through it
Blasts my innards onto the walls as sure as I’d been shot
Point blank range, and every drop of blood a slide in a projector
It’s an unbearable burden, and it’s the curse of hindsight
To know who you are to others only after the splash of rainbow light
Only after you’ve burned some Rorschach on their retinas
I’m so ******* upset all the time about it, it’s pathetic,
But I would hold your face in my hands nose to nose
As if I were about to kiss you roughly,
And I would open my eyes their widest and shine into you
Pure white floodlight high beams of absolute truth about who I am
Only the trouble is, really, even I don’t know.