Song 3

The air isn't real It's made in a lab, shipped in a bag Reflections aren't real When digital lights refracting on me The pain isn't real Just chemicals telling my brain how I ought to be How I ought to be Oh, what's the point in tellin' if you're never gonna listen What's the point in telling you why? Our children will be buried under blankets of snow And you'll be in your technicolor home Conscious says Yeah we spoke of this before in a dream of course It was clear to me then babe but now it seems you still want more He'll regret it He said he's never felt that So I'm wondering if you'd let him He thinks it's coming easy I know you are prone to dancing when nobody is home Feels good to be alone People free in his own words [And it just keeps rolling, rolling, rolling along] It's not always what it seems to be I've wandered far too long to tell apart but now All I want to do is be All I want to say is how All I want to do is you