There is a distant chant that is coming down from the hills / it is as far away as a barely remembered dream / something important has gotten lost / there are rivers that can never be recrossed / a man alone in this world has no meaning / I’m ready to quit this life / and go back to the dreaming.

I think I’ll buy a cyanide pill / and keep it inside a false tooth / so on the day they’ve got me cornered / and there’s nothing left of my youth / and my body has fallen into decay / and I’ve got nowhere left to go / I can just smile / look around / and then bite down / before they get to say / we told you so.

To be a broken mirror is to reflect / a thousand different shards of light / and you never really know where you belong / and you never really know / what is wrong or right / you just lie on the ground in pieces / and you look up at the sky / and you never see what the others see / and you don’t know / the reason why.

All magicians can only exist in a certain realm / and once they’ve been flushed out / they become less than nothing / on this material plain / stripped of their dreams / all they hold is a gray little brain / where there was once a broad / expanding universe / it is almost like the real world / except somehow / even magically worse.

Good intentions are always the first stop / on the way to my detention / locked up in a house full of bad vibrations / this is the kind of paradox / that could shatter the nations / try to do good / and get evil in return / it is only the young at heart / that will never learn.

My life was a taxi / and I always paid for the ride in back / sometimes right there at the moment / other times / long after the fact / now I’ve seen every street in this city / and know every dark corner by heart / but the next time I need to go searching / I’ll negotiate the fare / from the start.