Your Reality

You, like a thermometer right outside

I can see from the kitchen window

What is real, what it’s really like

You, when the mirrors stretch and wave

When the image is dark and crazy and it’s all I can see

Your reality is my good medicine

Tell me who we are and who I am

Your reality is my good medicine

Tell me who we are

And who I am

You, you find me in the playback room

Playing back everything I’ve said

Every little thing I’ve said

You, when I cannot trust myself

When the soundings are deep and lonely

And I seem to have lost my way

The only part of this that throws me off

Is you’re too good to be true