The World That Isn'T Real
There's a land where the wind whistles low and long
As my hair whips against my face
And gray swallows the sky as the clouds dance in a circle
Every fear envelopes my sole and my sole sinks deep inside me
The fields stretch long in wide in all directions
And the winding road reaches it's hand out to the horizon
The trees are bare and lifeless their fingers brittle and sad
The grass reaches up and brushes my knees and it sways back and forth in rhythm with the wind
I am alone
I am afraid
And it haunts me
In the world that isn't real
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