Do you ever wonder if it’s not real,
If we’re all plugged in, like the Matrix film?
Or maybe we’re all floating in a perfect tear
Fallen from the eye of God, whoever He may be.
What if we can change the things we see,
Like painters as they cover strokes went wrong?
I’d make a world that seethes with colour
And work that doesn’t feel like toil.
I’d draw a world designed for us,
Those people who don’t seem to fit,
The square shaped pegs that just won’t go
Into the holes that someone long ago
Ensured were drilled perfectly round.