Seeing through a broken glass,
Not seeing through the pasture grass.
Insanity reaching critical mass,
Waiting for nothing in my mind to pass.

Seeing a battle in a cloud,
Speaking to nothing, speaking aloud.
Seeing a goddess, knowing a friend,
Watching reality twist and bend.

Am I being incoherent, I really cannot tell.
Am I trying to buy, or are you trying to sell?
Is it personal charm, or some kind of spell?
From the depth of my heart, or from the bottom of hell.

Something climbing into my bed,
Something existing only in my head.
Unless it was written, and afterwards read,
It is something that's gone, buried and dead.

Am I being incoherent, or is it just a misconception?
Are you ruling me out, or am I the exception?
Sinking back down to contemplation,
On the alleged reasons for my creation.

You cannot see strait, but only around
You don't catch the words, but you can hear the sound
The world is spinning, you fall to the ground
But nothing compares to the feeling you found

Seeing life through a broken lens,
Insanity rising beyond any sense.
The dreams in my head, growing dense,
And somebody laughing at my expense.