This in the mirror is mental illness before you, br Thoughts bounce off each other, like a chained tether-ball; br Coming round once, and you are loathe to recognize- br But back again later, the same thoughts have stalled. br br Who is to blame for the spiritual vacuum, br The thoughts obsessive that refuse to leave; br Was a game you played once, when your spirit was restive, br Now the hours left over are becoming a sieve. br br You are the mirror, shining you back at you; br And the blindness was mercy, but the game's now a joke; br The lack of real seeing makes everything darkness- br And the memories you're wrapped in, have become a vain cloak.