LIFE IS JUST A WHITE WASH

WE PAINT ON THE CANVAS IN OUR MIND

THE PEOPLE WE MEET MERE ILLUSIONS

NOT THERE AT ALL BUT IMAGINED

THE DAYS EVENTS DREAMED UP

LIKE A WRITER WRITING A BOOK

THE FEELINGS WE HAVE NOT OUR OWN

AS THEY BETRAY US AND STAB US DEEP

MAKING US LIKE STONE

LIFE IS A PERSONAL JOKE

WE PLAY ON OURSELVES

WE LET OUR TRUE SELVES OUT RARELY

THE HAPPINESS SHORT LIVED

THEN BACK INTO THE DARK CAVE

THE LIGHT IS EITHER BRIGHT OR DEAD

WE STRETCH TO TOUCH THE WARMTH

BUT IT IS LIKE A BUTTERFLY

YOU GRASP AND ALL YOU GET IS BAD AIR

OUR EMOTIONS ARE ALIKE IN THE SAME WAY

SHOULD I BELIEVE THE PEOPLE IN MY HEAD

THEY SAY I AM MAD

OR SHOULD I BELIEVE MYSELF

I ALSO THINK I AM MAD

I'M IN A WHIRLPOOL

WHEN, WHERE, WHY AND WHAT?

THE CONFUSION ENGULFS ME

IS IT ALL IN MY HEAD?

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