The perfect world exists within my head,
and it has become my own personal hell.

To be so close, yet so far away
from the only thing you want,
I can see it, I can feel it, I can hear it,
but I can't grab it.

My refuge has become the cause of my tears;
the only thing that makes me happy makes my cry,
my daydreams have become my own personal hell,
my utopia is killing me.

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