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Delusionist Imaginarium Lyrics - Artist : Kai Straw
I pose a question
What's more evasive? Love or the memory of dreams as we awaken? ... and what's more feared than death? What's two-faced like a cheek to the mirror's edge? So oppressive at its end That it seems to be defying the obsession it begins While the pessimist defends that it was never love But this, in itself, could prove that it was It coos at the barriers of sex Daring it to stifle the life within its breadth ... yet crucified when assessed For at times, an enigma, it confuses and offends Pews in a church over two-sets of men Or the views of a congress on the age of consent So I ask, what is this that's so mystic? The last fantasy we accept, yet insist What is love? What is love? Is it just another God for us To dream into existence, like mirages of Crucifixions, Muhammads and Allahs To reclaim the sleep which our questions once robbed? Is it a purpose? The lonely feel worthless So is this why we spend time searching to unearth it And those who can't find it receive it in their church Like it's coming from a God if it won't from a person? Oh, the tricks we insist upon To make magic seem like realistic thought It's like what's fictional or not Is defined by the comfort or distress it may cause But is the question worth posing? And If answered, could we find it for the lonely? Then place it in a pill to deplete the "if only"s That plague those who've loved or those who've never known it The loveless, now is that just a sickness? Waiting to be cured by a chemist in an instant? A pestilence for those who are distant Which symptoms are prayer for someone just to miss them Or is it all just disappointing Like stars falling to the glow of a distant morning Made complex by its witnesses Like the dissection of simple arithmetic What is love? What is love? I often wonder what it's like to have your head in the clouds I'd pay for this delusionist imaginarium I often wonder what it's like to have your head in the clouds I'd pay for this delusionist imaginarium Where love and God are like air and rocks Where love and God are like air and rocks They'd brush my cheeks And scrape my knees at least |
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