See

The way I see is so unheard of, it gets to me that nobody sees what I see. This way of thought chose me, As it calls out my name, Some call it insanity or ill. But I find the way I see is very real. There is no life after death you see, This is what my sight tells me. There is no point in shaping your mind, As it will shut door to your perception and the way you think. See, if you could see the way I see and what I see, you would demand and declare insanity, For what I see isn't seen unless you see the way I see. The world isn't what it seems, it seems. The way I see tells me there is no insanity that will cause the death of me, But a broken dream will surely be, This I cannot see because of the way I see, you see. When life has a strange rhythmic pull on you, you see, then maybe you can see the what I see the way I see it, It seems. To I, the way I see is but the way I've always seen, But yet you see me strange. Because the way I see is unheard of...That gets to me.