Dear Earth
You're everything I'm proud to desert
Dear heaven
Can I tear you apart for (self) redemption?
Dear Krypton
I can't accept tomorrow drifts on
Dear Metropolitan
I had a satori where shadows mimic Gotham
Am I god where the sun touches monoliths?
Childhood ends when I unclutched my rocket-ship
Finding myself among leapers a paragon
Dividing Hades and Babylon
I wear these wings (and virtue) like a prison
Despair and honour I saved in contradiction
To my sympathy for the phantom zone
Simply bury me where the phantoms roam

For the man who has everything
Wants to dream of nothing
For the man who has nothing
Wants to dream of everything
For the man who has everything
Wants to dream of nothing
For the man who has nothing
Wants to dream of everything
(Last night I felt)

My wings break
I fall down endless Eden's
Nothings safe
I protect hell for endless reasons
I awaken as a wounded mortal
Coiled vacant until sleeps abnormal
Now I could wage war on my creation
Like a psychedelic based Satan
Or I could trek through flame in hopeless pain
To find (flowers) in vain (for) my Lois Lane
The hills (and man) are blindfolded
Surreal gods change hands with ill exalted (villains)
I see through walls finding barbed wire
Unmarked graves for past messiahs
I am bullet proof, but I bow to melodrama
I could tie this noose, but words shatter my armour

For the man who has everything
Wants to dream of nothing
For the man who has nothing
Wants to dream of everything
For the man who has everything
Wants to dream of nothing
For the man who has nothing
Wants to dream of everything
(Last night I felt)

I touched the sky
I cut through sands of time
To find a playground I once knew
Only I found nightmares come true
God lost his way like a child
God has decayed and lies idle
Wearing these glasses in deamining facade
Disrepaired time machines I discard
Lay atop this mirage of kinsmen in action
Flowers are dying atoms (I see)
Cowards have cowered crafting anemoia's
History is written by the star destroyers
Ringing winds of the equinox
Futures begin to spit upon Asimov's
All I can hear is the mices choir
I run til the lights expire

For the man who has everything
Wants to dream of nothing
For the man who has nothing
Wants to dream of everything
For the man who has everything
Wants to dream of nothing
For the man who has nothing
Wants to dream of everything
(Last night I felt)