it is a an illusion is what they say
it is but a dream and has gone away
but if this dream is gone then why can I still smell her
it is only by waking they say that the day starts
but is is only by succoming to the little death that
I can avoid the devastating knowledge that I am alone
today is but another day, the light cutting away the fog
of escape from hollow words and acts
it is only the little death that frees the mind and lets freedom be
I want the dream, I'll take the illusion, I'll live the little death
it is only by giving it all away that the true gift of life can be
it is only in the illusion that truth can be found, a little at a time
illusion is the draw of dreams, both bitter and sweet
it is the dream that keeps the heart that has the sharpest sting
the only way way to life though is through the dieing of the dream
it is only in the light of day that the freedom truely comes
it is only in the contrasts of the day that truth can be seen
it is only in the dispelling of the dream that the illusion is clearly
seen
but when the dream is gone, why can I still smell her
