Teller of Thoughts

Part of living is living without
A precious few of us live with
And the rest of us filled with doubt
Can hardly live-- at all
And those of us still living without
Are still living with
It's a matter of seeing we're all the same

Swimming around with your eyes
Letting the chlorine-tainted manifesto
Steal your skies
Of blue, red, orange, and gray
All forms of each and every precious day

And then there is me, the teller of thoughts
A greeter of fearful and self-tearing thoughts
In the morning I recieve, in the evening I decieve
I know what I'm thinking and I can't help but doubt
And yet in the morning I have to believe
Unless I am to relieve myself of my mind
And relive the horrors and joys, every kind--
But a giant can only walk so far
Until he's rounded the world nine times before

All through the night as I stare at the ceiling
Accepting and ignoring every single feeling
I can't help but cry and feel dry as I try
To quit and admit every thought I emit
I listen to myself and shut the voice out
The words are so wise and make me feel stupid
And my stupid words fall on others as wise
It's like I'm wearing some daring disguise
It sits on my face but I feel its my own
Of course I got it from someone on loan

A hopeless man who is filled with hope
A dying man who can't help but live
I am each one, I know that its true
I am without a face, but I am with you