Kingdom of the waking world
gifts throne to all dilemma,
where every monumental reign
is made of golden terror,
confusion blends the noises,
the thunder of such leaping,
that is why; mistaken friend
I’m safest when I’m sleeping.
As when I make the headlines
empty judgement blares,
ensuing from the zombies,
rewriting all the cares,
with plastic minds; and metal hearts;
ignoring the soul seeping,
that is why, misguided friend
I’m safest when I’m sleeping.
Sullied scripts; and rotten reels,
will cut up all my dreams,
no live acts; upon broadcast,
poster child deems,
as lexicon is stunted,
by their timid bleeping,
that is why, my fucked up friend
I’m safest when I’m sleeping.
Drinking in a pub with ghosts
that my blade has made,
would create some peace and quiet
ending all the shade,
but living with myself and you,
is something not worth keeping,
that is why, my absent friend
I’m safest when I’m sleeping!