I am a thing so close to you, but that farthest thing away
Who am I, you ask? It's true I'm hard for words to say
I am the sound that you can't pronounce; I am the fire you can't ignite
I am the things that you cannot see, in the blindness when you have no light
I am the skill you can't attain, I am the goal you can't quite reach
I am the thoughts gone from your brain, I'm the blood you lost inside a leech.
I am the thing you won't obtain, or the rung you cannot grab
I'm sensations of pleasure, the ones you most treasure, after the painful stab
You think I may be the one who ties tongues, pulls legs, cuts binding strings?
You may be right, but I shan't say; truth's another of these things.
I'm the one who laughs at your failures the one who finds such glee in your cries
I am the one who knows you can't do better, who whispers the truth over all of your lies
And I am the one you still so yearn for, I am the one for whom you live
I'm of large things and of small, the height when you are not so tall
The clarity when you are lost, the warmth of spring during a frost
I'm the good friend where the funeral lies, when you're old I'm the monsters under your bed
The dirt in the hole or the land in the sky, I'm your life when you are dead.
I am all your hopes and dreams,
Your happy endings, sewn shut seams
The love you hysterically think about
The perfect answer you could shout
Or I'm what you lost that you long for back
I am what you lack.