Song 3 - Live At The Fonda, Los Angeles, 2019

The air isn't real
 It's made in a lab shipped in a bag
 Reflections aren't real
 When digital lights refracting on me
 The pain isn't real
 Just chemicals telling my brain how I ought to be, how I ought to be
 Oh, what's the point in tell in?, if you're never gonna listen
 What's the point in telling you why?
 Our children will be buried under blankets of snow
 And you'll be in your technicolor home
 Conscious says
 Yeah, we spoke of this before in a dream, of course
 It was clear to me then, babe
 But now it seems you still want more
 He'll regret it
 He said he's never felt that, so I'm wondering if you'd let him
 He thinks it's coming easy
 I know you are prone to dancing when nobody is home
 Feels good to be alone
 People free in his own words
 (And it just keeps rolling, rolling, rolling along)
 It's not always what it seems to be
 I've wandered far too long to tell apart, but now
 All I want to do is be
 All I want to say is how
 All I want to do is you