You and I were made to need oxygen.
Apnea projections out of reach.
You and I were made to need oxygen.
Paranoid conscience replaced you with machine.
Punctures in the sky are twitching and fading away.
Satellites hypontised you into a daydream.
Made to need oxygen, we're all afraid to sleep.
And I said "Don't hold your breath,
Don't get comfortable, we're all afraid to sleep."
Emptying translucency temporarily as
it seems to cloak the anxieties beneath.
I've been muting these twisted lucid dreams and
I tried to paint the worlds pale.
Don't get comfortable.
We're barely here.
We're all afraid to sleep.