Eyes glazed over

Staring at the glittering sky

As she walks along the ledge

With demons snapping at her ankles

A butterfly lands on her fingertips

She sits and stares in wonder

As its wings spark with flame

And a madman braids her hair with pink ribbons

She wasn't scared of the caterpillar

Didn't even blink at the army of playing cards

Smiled sweetly as the Queen of Hearts

Demanded the heads of her servants

Paint the roses red, she said

It's no use now, they're all dry and dead

Pale and sad and shriveled up

Like a forgotten suicide note

She feels more at home here, she says

Strange is normal here, normal is strange

They all admire her strange ideas and fantasies

Because they have far too many of their own

Unfortunately, as proverbs go, it was too good to be true

The cards and queens and talking animals

All faded from sight and hearing

As her sister shakes her awake from her slumber in the tree

She never quite snapped out of it

Rambling on about walking playing cards

And talking birds and Queens that demanded heads

While everyone started to think she had lost hers

It doesn't hit her until she's locked in a sterile white room

A heavy jacket constricting her movements

So all she can do is sprawl out on the floor

And cry to the heavens how she missed her Wonderland

But this is not Wonderland, dear Alice

In fact, it's quite the opposite

It's a little place called reality

From fantasy land, this would be your hell