An existance of me in the eyes above
Stars through the branches of a willow tree
Like the eyes of the cheshire cat
What can I do with these hands
When I'm only a poor boy
Only a visitor to this world that I'm in
I chased the gown of a baroness
Through the looking glass
Through an altered state of mind
Maybe my neurosis
Maybe a figment of my imagination
I can feel the darkness surround me
When I lay to slumber
My eyes
Like broken egg shells
Empty as life
I can feel the bombs raining down on the city
And planes flying overhead
There was a wormhole like the sun
Behind the ash grey sky
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