Some nights
When doubts claw their way up from my inner consciousness
and poison my thoughts with whispered promises of persecution —
When I look to the night sky to the judgment of a thousand stars
and they stare me down and promise a malignant execution —
When I look down at my earth but the city streets are darker
because somebody saw me walking and turned out the light —
When the sirens drag me up from the ocean floor laughing
and say "Sorry, for us you aren't right" —
When I look deeply into the mirror and see nothing
because my reflection's run away already and hidden far out of sight —
When I scream and the mirror shatters
and the fragments scatter wildly across the night —
When I mirror the mirror
and all the King's horses and men don't even try —
When my world crumbles to dust around me
and everything's gone but I can't bring myself to cry —
When the future's uncertain and the present's all right
and the past calls and says "don't trust the future it's always drinking and high" —
Those nights I doubt.
Those nights I cry.
But most nights I don't.