A mirror faced figure leading me astray.
Psychologically it is wearing my mind away.
It leaves me a flower, a knife turns into a key.
In my house I find there's more than one me.

Am I dreaming, does this robed person exist?
Would I even care if there's a knife to twist?
Loneliness can play evil tricks with the mind.
Reasons to live, sometimes I struggle to find.

Items change places not touched by my hand.
I chase the mystery figure through wet sand.
The chase is over, but so strange is this day.
I will chase it again in exactly the same way.

Is the figure my lover, my killer, maybe it's me?
Hiding behind a mirror, the answer I can't see.
This cloaked person I lose, chase after chase.
If I remove the mirror will I see my own face?

Dream or reality, every event today I repeat.
Every warped moment is a cycle incomplete.
The flower I retrieve again, the mirror I crack.
Will I wake up at all, is there no turning back?