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I go to sleep tonight,
Hoping for nothing but my beautiful nightmare.
The way I can stare at the dancing pictures,
The way I can feel the watching eyes...

Just to be passed by the prescence,
I don't care about myself,
They're near; here.
What's the point in caring about myself when I can't think?

I welcome this beautiful nightmare,
Welcome this pretty picture...
In the dream I put the knife down,
The prescence is near.

I take a deep breath and walk to a new voice,
One that never mocks me,
Never teases...
A voice I do not know.

I drown in the feel of the voice,
Lingering through the air.
I hear the voice with not just my ears.
I touch the voice,
I will always be attracted to this.

I never want to wake from my beautiful nightmare...