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