"crazy oblivion of truth."
beautiful, but terrifying, space where reality is lost. In the lines of your face
Here is a song about that theme:
Estuary of Lies
(Verse 1)
I stood at the edge where the facts meet the fade
A precipice carved from the promise you made
Down below, the currents, they churn and they mix
The freshwater of honesty drowned in your tricks.
It's the estuary of understanding your art
Where I watch the whole truth slowly drift apart.
I can name every wave, I can chart every tide
But I can't find the anchor where your heart used to hide.
(Chorus)
Oh, this crazy oblivion of truth, it is beautiful and deep
Like a glass-still ocean where all of my memories sleep.
The air is so clear, and the light is so strange,
In this new world where the compass has lost all its range.
We drift in the silence, a perfect, soft lie,
Underneath an indifferent, an immaculate sky.
(Verse 2)
You built a horizon that shimmered and glowed
A mirage of forever down a perfectly smooth road.
I walked through the garden, where blossoms were fake,
A perfect performance for goodness's sake.
Now I've found the trap door, the seam in the air,
And I see the whole rigging of beautiful despair.
It hurts less to stay, sometimes, right here in the blur,
Than to step back to sunlight and know who you were.
(Chorus)
Oh, this crazy oblivion of truth, it is beautiful and deep
Like a glass-still ocean where all of my memories sleep.
The air is so clear, and the light is so strange,
In this new world where the compass has lost all its range.
We drift in the silence, a perfect, soft lie,
Underneath an indifferent, an immaculate sky.
(Bridge)
It's not that I can't leave—the exit is near
But the truth is so heavy, a thing to fear.
I've gotten used to the quiet, the smooth, gentle sway,
In this world you created, where nothing can break, or decay.
So I stand on the edge, and I watch the world spin,
Knowing the oblivion is already within.
(Outro)
And I step off the cliff face, no sound and no splash,
Into the dark water, the beautiful ash.
The truth is forgotten.
The pain is relieved.
Just the crazy oblivion of what I believed.
...Of what I believed.
Philosophy11
