Jul 2014
What is it you see when you look in the mirror everyday
Are you looking for something that should be there, or is it staring you in the face
Deep down we all know that we’re always creating something out of nothing
Giving life to an illusion, creating a seperate reality
I suppose that’s how we survive
Each and every one of us so sure of our own realness
Or maybe, we’re so sure of our illusions
that we’ve forgotten what’s real and what’s not
It’s easier that way, for some, for most
We spend our time crafting our identities,
however illusionary, however far fetched, however unbelievable
And that biological puppet we’ve been stringed up to is more real than flesh and bone
Because the faces that we see are not our own
They’re an invention, a facade, a defense mechanism
I think that in the quiet moments we don’t really like ourselves, our real selves
That’s just too much reality, too much truth to handle
It’s like removing your make up, getting undressed and going out into a crowd
Bare faced and naked with nothing to hide behind
Letting strangers inspect every crevice, every flaw, every thing
So we pump ourselves full of chemicals
Fill our veins with mindless entertainment
Just to hush the voices
All in the hopes of forgetting
Forgetting that it’s more than just bodies spinning around, going through the motions
It’s about maintaining the misalignment of nerves and the misfiring synapses
So that even if you wanted to, you would never know which side of the fence you were on
You’re lucky if you find yourself in the shade
But if you happen to be in the path of a hurricane, I guess you wouldn’t any better
All those bruises and scars will seem like they were meant to be
And in time, your broken heart will heal, just not in the way you thought it would
And you’ll question everything
You’ll question your father, your mother, your lover, your God
Because you know that branches and debris alone can’t do so much damage
Was man supposed to love so much that it hurt?
I guess yeah, but not in the way that love was meant to be felt
Who knows how we’re meant to love
If you’ve never been in a gunfight, how would you know what I was talking about
And yet, we all talk
We talk like we know what we’re talking about
But no one seems to talk about the important things, like time and death
They bring life to the things that are worth knowing
Just look into the eyes of everyone around you
Forget other people, look into the mirror at yourself
When it comes time to go, everyone welcomes it
We finally realise and accept how easy it is
Or maybe we’re just grew weary of pretending
Because in the end, it’s refreshing to know you don’t have to hold on so tight
Letting go is accepting that your dreams; both good and bad, are just memories
Memories made of moments you keep locked up in your mind
Moments where you dream of what you should be, what you could be, what you’re not
And like all dreams, there’s a monster at the end of the hallway
But unlike all dreams, you don’t always wake up.
Are you looking for something that should be there, or is it staring you in the face
Deep down we all know that we’re always creating something out of nothing
Giving life to an illusion, creating a seperate reality
I suppose that’s how we survive
Each and every one of us so sure of our own realness
Or maybe, we’re so sure of our illusions
that we’ve forgotten what’s real and what’s not
It’s easier that way, for some, for most
We spend our time crafting our identities,
however illusionary, however far fetched, however unbelievable
And that biological puppet we’ve been stringed up to is more real than flesh and bone
Because the faces that we see are not our own
They’re an invention, a facade, a defense mechanism
I think that in the quiet moments we don’t really like ourselves, our real selves
That’s just too much reality, too much truth to handle
It’s like removing your make up, getting undressed and going out into a crowd
Bare faced and naked with nothing to hide behind
Letting strangers inspect every crevice, every flaw, every thing
So we pump ourselves full of chemicals
Fill our veins with mindless entertainment
Just to hush the voices
All in the hopes of forgetting
Forgetting that it’s more than just bodies spinning around, going through the motions
It’s about maintaining the misalignment of nerves and the misfiring synapses
So that even if you wanted to, you would never know which side of the fence you were on
You’re lucky if you find yourself in the shade
But if you happen to be in the path of a hurricane, I guess you wouldn’t any better
All those bruises and scars will seem like they were meant to be
And in time, your broken heart will heal, just not in the way you thought it would
And you’ll question everything
You’ll question your father, your mother, your lover, your God
Because you know that branches and debris alone can’t do so much damage
Was man supposed to love so much that it hurt?
I guess yeah, but not in the way that love was meant to be felt
Who knows how we’re meant to love
If you’ve never been in a gunfight, how would you know what I was talking about
And yet, we all talk
We talk like we know what we’re talking about
But no one seems to talk about the important things, like time and death
They bring life to the things that are worth knowing
Just look into the eyes of everyone around you
Forget other people, look into the mirror at yourself
When it comes time to go, everyone welcomes it
We finally realise and accept how easy it is
Or maybe we’re just grew weary of pretending
Because in the end, it’s refreshing to know you don’t have to hold on so tight
Letting go is accepting that your dreams; both good and bad, are just memories
Memories made of moments you keep locked up in your mind
Moments where you dream of what you should be, what you could be, what you’re not
And like all dreams, there’s a monster at the end of the hallway
But unlike all dreams, you don’t always wake up.
