Sober Dementia

A puppet – high on crack A monster – smiling back On batteries… I move No music and no groove In people… I collide No heartbeat deep inside I wish that I could feel… and I wish I could be real I wish it could be real. Stop One, two, three, four… bogeyman is at the door Gonna break and gonna turn Liars into mud A blackbird – on the ground A savage – turned around Beneath the wings… I hide No beings by my side In sounds… I rest and move No heartbeat to improve I wish that I could feel…and I wish I could be real I wish it could be real.