\"desperately grasp at words that float by in the air
and string them into a pattern
that one would make sense of
because sentences are just patterns
i don\'t really know how to speak
because i form these patterns from many others
that i have seen
and thought made complete
but fragments are so hard to piece together
and i end up making more fragments
because that\'s all what
i am, am i
not just a tapestry
formed from the world itself
nobody\'s words are their own and
that\'s why people fall
into being the prey of their own statements
and the ideas that people throw out
your ideas are just patterns
patterns from angels and demons of man,
man, why do men and women of this earth
string together things in the wrong way or do i just misunderstand?
Misunderstand what of the words i am
misunderstood, but really i don\'t think i\'m misunderstood
because if someone were to completely understand me
i would live in fear every day because they know who i am from the inside out
but that is never possible, so i live in between,
behind the curtain, but back stage forever waiting my turns and my star scenes
Floating on my daydreams
But nothing on this stage of life is as it seems
The plans of curiosity
Smashed by great monstrosities
People are dying and what to i have to say
But that, my friends, i have to play
Drink the stage life and go on
What sort of actor am i?
The one who is known for humor or
the one that always harbors a secret,
secrets, secrets of words again
You don\'t know me i\'m lost
it\'s the words the patterns of words i guess
I\'m dying and drowning in unsaid statements,
unsaid fragments of the fragmented mirror.\"