Sometimes...
The world in our minds
Is so sublime

That we just cannot resist
We're under our own spell

So just
What will we find by pondering
Meanwhile our minds are wandering
Think of the time we're squandering
For "truth"...

There's only one way to know
What lies beyond the grave...

Gripping tightly onto our imaginings
These images
That we favor above all other things....
All other things...

Spellbound by our own minds
And we've seen where this can go...

Don't you know...
Only doubt can set you free
'Cause only through doubt can truth be seen to be
There's no way of knowing otherwise
What's truth and what's nothing but lies
When anything goes...goes...goes...
When anything goes...

'Cause we don't get to choose what we want the truth to be

So just
What's this about suggestion
Accepted without a question when
Only through doubt can the truth be seen as true?

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