Those regrets, why should you fight them?
When it's easy to re-write them
Flee your prison, break your chains
(Your own truth is what remains)
For on the other side of True
There is a God, and s/he is you
There's no need for fear or worry
(But "reality" is blurry)
Did you dream it, did you do it?
Did you sleep when you went through it?
Does it matter, in the end?
(Do you live, or play pretend?)
In your pocket, there's a ring
Such an unimportant thing
All it takes, though, is a touch
(It's all fake, too soon, too much!)
And I wake and gasp and cry
It's so real I want to die
I go back - to calm, to peace
(to where I can find release)
And one day that ring I own
- and with that, the world I've known -
Will be left inside a drawer
(I'll be waking up no more)
In there I will live forever
All illusions, but whatever
Nothing's really as it seems
- But that's often true, in dreams