Sometimes it's hard to believe that
there's nobody out there,
And I fear that it's true.
Sometimes it's hard to believe that
there's nobody out there,
And I long for its truth.

Sometimes i defocus my eyes,
the out-of-focus images migrate,
Double inverted, superimposed.
Sometimes i defocus my eyes
and with the blurred, wide-perspective,
Without context, i see clearly.

Somedays I wake to that
pleasent feeling that no-one's here.
Somedays I wake to that
soft glow of his presence;
the warm fuzz of his coat.
But he left years ago.
One day I'll not wake,
then, maybe, we'll be free to run again.