3-

The Art of my Illusion It's permanent in me - It's ink beneath a blink, It's written on the skin, A monster called "Disease". The more my eyes are full of things The less my heart beats strong, Instead of pumping out the blood, It's pumping out a "please!". 'Cause where I am It's called Toyland, The place where nights and days Are all the same - Where no one understands The words that fly - like Bees Or Butterfly - into the beauty light.