Footsteps cross the school yard
Holding hands with a mirage
You don't listen

You do not exist

Mute of all suggestion

The broken doll in question
Through shattered mirror
Empty caravel


You mirage, mirage
That sings to me

Or maybe stopped hearing
You do not exist


Two tracks through the desert
Sad eyes, little puppet
You don't listen

You do not exist

Happy not to notice

The room, the traps, the focus
Where you cannot see
Reflections from within


You mirage, mirage
That sings to me

Or maybe stopped hearing
You do not exist


Or maybe stopped hearing

Holding hands with a mirage [x8]