Comfort Me (Simulacra)

I've a girl
Who knows me well
We both have seen
The eyes of hell
Depression's just
A blurry door
To conscious worlds
Of so much more

The map is not the territory
Reality is a scary story
Comfort me
Simulacra, simulation
Identity disintegration
Comfort me

The ancient art
Of going insane
Is not some sort of
Trendy game

Designer drugs
For winsome hugs
Or bookmarks in
The DSM

You meet someone
You see them smile
They make you laugh
You buy the guile

Despite the self
You see them show
You can't know what
They fight alone

It would not change
If I were famous
My inner life
Is deadly nameless
Run from me
The cure for all my perversions
The shaking hand of a single person
Come to me

We both know you're crazy
We both know you're sane