I'm not alive
These pills are my mind and I invite thieves inside to steal my soul
They've been dancing down my throat in the form of smoke
You were born to start; programmed to stop, born to fly; expected to drop
Obvious to the touch, invisible to the eye; bottoms to the sky
So far from safe but so close to sound
So high that every step you take will miss the ground
Fortunate son, didn't you know that the sky is painted on?
So stop living your life around alarms
Tonight we are invisible
All we are is ghosts
All we breathe is smoke