| Is it any surprise I feel listless?
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| When I see strange lights and hear whispers
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| The beings always seem to have something to discuss
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| And it’s tough to predict if it’ll be disgusting
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| Sometimes they point me the right way: a lifesaver
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| But too unreliable to be called my saviour
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| No one around me can hear them or see them
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| Or feel them all breathing appearing to me disappearing as easily
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| Here when I need them and here when I don’t
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| A relief and a fear to me
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| Seeing the ghosts of deceased who were near to me
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| Leave for the coast bringing grief and a tear with me
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| Seeking reprieve from the fury that’s jeering me
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| But it seems that they’re deemed to be here with me
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| Real as the me that I see in the mirror
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| Every minute, every week, every year 'til infinity
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| All that we see and hear and feel is real
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| As long as we believe it’s real
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| 'Til our walls come crumbling down
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| Everything is real
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| I don’t know whether you might know this
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| But back then we didn’t do diagnosis
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| We were too blinded by our views to quite notice
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| The difference between demons and true psychosis
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| So those most prone to it you might know
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| Were left to float on their own through the gloom like Moses
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| Eschewed by those that should have stood by closest
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| To comply with the group who never knew my motive
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| Who knows what induced it, was it true mitosis?
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| Trauma? |
| Eating funny mushrooms in too high doses?
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| Giving you mycosis?
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| Wish I knew why, floating in my supine boat
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| Roam alone but in two minds rowing
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| Reciting the poems that I knew by rote
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| And now the moonlight glow gives a new bright hope
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| I never lose my focus
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| 'Til I’ve opened up my mind, showing you my opus
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| All that we see and hear and feel is real
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| As long as we believe it’s real
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| 'Til our walls come crumbling down
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| Everything is real
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| The furies fume in the eerie gloom
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| Whispering that the darkness will be will be here with me soon
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| It must be real; |
| I can feel the abuse
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| Feel it breathing on my shoulder round my neck like a noose
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| It’s no delusion. |
| no effect I’ve produced
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| No confusion, no illusion, there’s a threat on the loose
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| They’re always with me, Lord forgive me
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| Give me the fortitude to force secure the doors of misery
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| I’m falling quickly, more than simply sickly
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| This is something dormant that was borne within me
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| Forming in my thoughts: I’m in deep
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| But I’ve learned to live with it
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| And I urge you to purge your prejudice
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| That led you to spurn and reject me
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| Just because of hurtful ignorance, picture it
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| The Pict who never picked her deck
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| Picking up the pieces of her past and repositioning it
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| Listen to my voice as if you’re listening to voices in your head
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| And pick a different choice instead
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| All that we see and hear and feel is real
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| As long as we believe it’s real
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| 'Til our walls come crumbling down
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| Everything is real
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| That we see and hear and feel is real
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| As long as we believe it’s real
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| 'Til our walls come crumbling down
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| Everything is real |