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