WHO, WHO HEARS MY CRIES, DO THEY JUST DROWN THEM OUT
DO THEY TURN UP THEIR TVS AND RADIOS AND PRETEND THAT I AM
NOT HERE
I HEAR MY CRIES AS IF I WERE ON THE OUTSIDE LOOKING IN
LOOKING INTO A LOST SOUL WITH ONLY MEMORIES TO KEEP ME
COMPANY

WHAT ARE MY DREAMS IF NOTHING BUT NIGHTMARES, SCATTERED
PICTURES, OUT OF CONTEXT, DREAMS OF WHAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN
AND WHAT IS REAL, I PREFER MY NIGHTMARES 

WHERE ARE THE YESTERDAYS THAT I LONG FOR SO
IN THE MISTS OF THE MORNING, IN THE SHADOWS OF A LONG NIGHT
STILL THERE, ONLY I CANNOT REACH THEM
JUST BARELY OUT OF MY GRASP, THEY MIGHT AS WELL BE A HUNDRED
YEARS AWAY

WHEN WILL I BE ABLE TO SET MY DREAMS FREE 
WHEN CAN I REPLACE THEM WITH DREAMS ANEW
ONE DAY, MAYBE ONE DAY I WILL BE ABLE TO OPEN MY EYES AND
SEE WHAT ELUDES ME STILL

WHY, THE SIMPLEST AND HARDEST OF ALL QUESTIONS
IT IS NOT FOR ME TO KNOW, I AM TOLD
I WILL NOT SEE THE FINISHED PUZZLE UNTIL THE LAST PIECE IS
SET IN PLACE, 
HOW I LONG TO SEE WHAT'S BEEN TAKEN FROM ME