Defined
They think they see me, but it's not me.
They see my mirror.
Funny, they're talking to my mirror.
To the cold, sharp glass that ever holds my image prisoner in its frame, but it's not me. Don't they know?
They can't tell, they don't see.
They don't realize, it's not me.
Why is it so hard to believe, the cold image in the glass -it's not me?
The mirror moves the image, like a child moves a doll,
and the me-image smiles, with the teeth of a jagged saw.
They do not see the teeth, they only see the grin
and I could tell them truths, tell what faces them
but they wouldn't hear me speak, or they'd hear a different sound
and they wouldn't turn to face me, since the mirror has them now.
They can't tell, they don't see.
They don't realize, it's not me.
Why is it so hard to believe, the cold image in the glass -it's not me?
A window opens, and the mirror shatters as the desperate winds grasp what little they can reach,
and They are lost to the mirror and it's image, yet still they cannot see me, cannot find me, do not know me.
Only as the image in the mirror, could I exist.
They can't tell, they don't see.
They don't realize, it's not me.
Why is it so hard to believe, the cold image in the glass -it's not me?
Only as the image in the mirror, could I exist.
They see my mirror.
Funny, they're talking to my mirror.
To the cold, sharp glass that ever holds my image prisoner in its frame, but it's not me. Don't they know?
They can't tell, they don't see.
They don't realize, it's not me.
Why is it so hard to believe, the cold image in the glass -it's not me?
The mirror moves the image, like a child moves a doll,
and the me-image smiles, with the teeth of a jagged saw.
They do not see the teeth, they only see the grin
and I could tell them truths, tell what faces them
but they wouldn't hear me speak, or they'd hear a different sound
and they wouldn't turn to face me, since the mirror has them now.
They can't tell, they don't see.
They don't realize, it's not me.
Why is it so hard to believe, the cold image in the glass -it's not me?
A window opens, and the mirror shatters as the desperate winds grasp what little they can reach,
and They are lost to the mirror and it's image, yet still they cannot see me, cannot find me, do not know me.
Only as the image in the mirror, could I exist.
They can't tell, they don't see.
They don't realize, it's not me.
Why is it so hard to believe, the cold image in the glass -it's not me?
Only as the image in the mirror, could I exist.