Orange Tinted Sunglasses

Yes, I know, it is all an illusion The way my sun-like eyes see: For these glasses paint in gold The wreckage and ruin around me. This may be the wrong way To live my sorry life Finding golden glimmers even as I hold a glinting knife, But the world that I see Whenever I try to see what's real: It is broken, dreary, dead, Much I like how I feel Whenever I wind up lost In my supposed paradise But find that my dreams have Been devoured by demon lies And realize that however hard I try I'll never be able to redeem The idyllic joy that once lay in Every single one of my dreams. So with my counterfeit view Of this miserable land At least, somehow, I can see A kingdom so sunshine grand, And at least, as I walk towards The cliffs from where I shall die, My last sight is the eternal proof Of my beautiful lie---