Born into confusion,
Where infant eyes deceive,
I reach to my reflection,
But is it really me,
I can't see the wind blow,
But I can feel the breeze,
It's coming through my window,
It's moving all around me,
And I can't see the Hand no,
That pulls me to my knees,
But when I meet my shadow,
I see gravity,
...Theres comfortable illusion,
To hide reality,
And shame for those who believe,
In things they cannot see,
I can't see the wind blow,
But I can feel the breeze,
It's coming through my window,
It's moving all around me,
And I can't see the Hand no,
That pulls me to my knees,
But when I meet my shadow
I see gravity,