Alan Wake

There's an old tale wrought with mystery of Tom the Poet and his muse
And a magic lake which gave a life to the words the poet used
Now, the muse she was his happiness, and he rhymed about her grace
And told her stories of treasures deep beneath the blackened waves
Till' in the stillness of one dawn, still in its misty crown
The muse she went down to the lake, and in the waves she drowned
The poet came down to the lake to call out to his dear
When there was no answer he was overcome with fear
He searched in vain for his treasure lost and too soon the night would fall
Only his own echo would wail back at his call
And when he swore to bring back his love by stories he'd create
Nightmares shifted in their sleep in the darkness of the lake

The name's Alan Wake and I'm a writer who's stuck
For two years I was simply unable to drop
A single word since I finished "The Sudden Stop"
It feels as if my mind is standing in a blind spot
I was in desperate need of some time off
What better place to find than Bright Falls
A wooden cabin in the middle of Diver's Isle
All seemed fine until the lights went out
My wife has always been so afraid of the dark
I had to rush straight back toward her to find
She fell into the blackened waves sinking down
I could not allow her to drown right after her I dived
Woke up a week later in a crashed car
Unable to remember what had went down
My memory all blurred and blacked out
Fragmented image of a woman in a black gown
Now, darkness surrounds
Unnatural shadows are on the rise
In the Elderwood National Park
You better leave behind any fear of the dark
I do not go gentle into that good night
Got a real tight grip on my flashlight
Combined with the gun I aim right
Raging against the dying of Zane's light
On this hiking trail
I'm chased by The Taken and Nightingale
Partaking in this frightening tale
My imagination is my most striking trait
It's Taken season and I brought my hunting rifle
I'm a hardboiled writer who's not gonna be stifled
Feel the power surging through the typewriter
As each key stroke makes my light shine much brighter

I'll write
I'll keep writing
Outside there's only darkness
Outside the cabin
Outside the story, there's only darkness
I can feel her presence in the dark
Just now, I can smell her perfume in the room
I'll reach her
I'll fix it
I'll bring her back
The story will come true
If I stop
She's lost

Under unimaginable pressure of the world
Beyond our own in which I'm all alone
I feel the darkness surrounding me
Is anyone out there I'm drowning here
Beneath the waves of Cauldron Lake
I'm typing away writing page after page
I've got to find out a way to escape this madness
Got to find out a way to save Alice from the darkness
Always operating on a shifting logic of the dream
While reality keeps crumbling in here
Any explanation does not need to be
After all it's antithetical to the poetry of fear
As if Stephen King was here
Orchestrating this surreal horror scene
Can't tell if it's real or perchance a dream
Since the author of this manuscript is me

Yeah
Things were never as simple in real life as in fiction
I'd lost count of the times
I'd wished there'd been a clear reason for my writer's block
Something to fight
Something to lash out on
There wasn't
I was filled with doubt
I was nothing like the hero in my books
I told myself it didn't really matter
My course was set

My writer's block was always keeping me down
The main source of all the black thoughts in my mind
I've got to wipe out all this darkness inside
I've got to figure out how you and I will survive
A story is not a machine you can control
A story is a beast with a will of its own
You've got to be careful with every single word
You've got to be careful with how you let them flow
The role of a writer is not to say all we can say
But exactly that which we are unable to say
The words I was always so afraid to unveil
Entail in detail every event of the tale
Now that all the Taken have been taken care of
I can finally get to writing the work I've been so scared of
No more hiding and waiting in terror
No longer afraid of making another error
My poems and flows are shaping the world
Just when I thought that I fought this war all alone
In the eye of the storm like Odin and Tor
Powered by the songs of Poets of The Fall
Let's rock this show and let the fireworks soar
Unload the flare gun and watch the fire galore
This horde of horror story spawn
Are all but bound to be gone by dawn
Radek Wade and Alan Wake are sharing the same fate
Both been so desperately trying to keep all their demons at bay
Every day finding ways to keep on writing again
And always losing to the muses keeping them awake
Chase the darkness away
Take aim and shoot it in the face
Let me illuminate the way
With the art you create reshape your fate

It's not a lake...
It's an ocean
Alan... Wake up