Collateral Reality (feat. REVNA)

In the haze of the looking glass, do you see what I see
Sharp shattered fragments, remnants of fractured dreams
Upon the convex lens, we try to paint our own display
But the kaleidoscope of muted colors blend and fade away

Tell me, tell me please, is your truth the same as mine
Or are we just echoes of reality lost in different space-times
Is this real? Are these even laws physics obeys
Are we awake or sleepwalking in a dull, muddy haze

We're all living in a collateral reality
Where does your strange world end and mine begin
Twisted colored lines and blurred out symmetry
Is the truth within, without, or just a random phantom spin

You speak of endless seas of stars, yet I see only empty space
We chase the temptation of illusions, the folly of the human race
What if the sky is just a painted ceiling, like the Sistine Chapel
And our universe a carnival, and knowledge a lovely candied apple

Do you trust the map you hold or stubbornly lose your way
Are the trodden paths we wander meant to keep us traveling the same way
Is life just tall tales and fairy stories spun from made-up myths
Can we even trust the truths we hide in the depths of our abyss

We're all caught in this dance of quantum energy
In this mad kaleidoscope we call our friend
We're all living in a collateral reality
To whom's will shall you bend

When the echoes of echoes of a twilight dream collide
And the snickering whispers of a thousand lies subside
Will we find that space-time's fabric's been torn
Or are we just more threads to be woven again, reborn

So you say you've laid eyes upon the future's hidden face
I think I have as well, though it was in a long-forgotten place
Is the mirror that reflects my life just a simple window's frame
Or could it be a magic portal to an ever-shifting game

Have we built our most sacred truths upon cosmic shifting sand
Perhaps our destiny's written in the stars
Or is everything unplanned
When we fuss and fight and argue over what is real and what might not

Have we just become victims of dogma, lost in the same tired plot
Is the end of life the end of all? Will we ever truly see
Or are we merely scattered fragments of a grander mystery

Reality's a madman's collage, ever-shifting to what will be
Is it only in the soul's gallery of the mind that anyone can be truly free