Someone was here before me and they took the possibility away
And without any control or freedom the elements were laid down
In this way
And so my mind is slowly devoured by the ideas to which it subscribes
And in the end I'm left with nothing except the memory of
Believing my own lies
And where are you now, my most unfortunate lie?
The light shows my face in the mirror and my hand as it reaches
To touch
The evidence of pain and delusion and a mind which was never clear
Enough
I saw the sun rise in an ancient desert where this moment was first
Foretold
And the black water was thick as blood and my hands they were full of
Gold
And where are you now, the most lethal, all consuming lie I ever told?
Where are you now, my unfortunate, irreversible lie?
Writer(s): Michael Rolfe Gira
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