Reality is a dream that slips past us in the night, soft and warm,
just out of our touch,
beyond grasping,
beyond hope.
As we all dance our dance,
And no one scratches the surfaces of our masks
No one has the courage to lift their bare faces to the sun
And I still scream silently
As I drown in the falseness of the day
Which would be perfect
If only the solid shapes would stop shifting
And if only
If only
If
If only
And if only
If only the shifting shapes would be solid
Which would be imperfect
As I cry in the shallowness of the souls
And I still scream out loud
No one has the courage to listen to the singing of my soul
No one hears me tear at the surface of my mask
As I dance alone
And daylight is the fluff of fantasy
Beyond hope
Beyond grasping
Just out of my touch
Dreaming of a reality that slips past me in the daylight, hard and cold.