I look to the ceiling, And see you name in lights, In all the burned out bulbs, That once had burned so bright. It's our conclusion. Schizophrenia, heart-attack After one of those You won't come back. You'll never see it coming, Though you have your whole life, You'll never understand what keeps you up, At night. I see right through them, Past all of their charades, There's no reflection, There's only mind games. At night It's our conclusion