In a world of deaf and blind,
You are the only one alive.
You are a shepherd, herding sheep,
Wading through waters three feet deep.
You are the self-appointed lead
In the plight against tragedy
And you'll wave that flag around,
Use it to methodically remove doubt.

What else goes on inside that head?
Is there much room for more
Than self-centered embellishments?
I can't help but want to tear you down,
But I know the trouble you would cause
And there is not much room for that.

In a world of sight and sound,
You are the brightest one around.
You light fires at your feet,
Breadcrumbs not meant for clemency.
Your pedestal's a crutch,
Precarious in touch.
You make sure you're recognized
All your blunders martyrized.

I have recurring dreams
Of you brought down to your knees.
It's odd that you'd have that effect.
In your lonely fantasy, your living murder scene
You are the suspect and the dead.

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