- John Petrucci 'Love, just don't stare' He used to say to me every Sunday morning The spider in the window The angel in the pool The old man takes the poison Now the widow makes the rules 'So speak, I'm right here' She used to say to me not a word, not a word Judas on the ceiling the Devil in my bed I guess Easter's never coming So I'll just wait inside my head Like a scream but sort of silent living off my nightmares Voices repeating me 'Feeling threatened? We reflect your hopes and fears.' Voices discussing me 'Others steal your thoughts they're not confined within your mind.' Thought disorder Dream control Now they read my mind on the radio But where was the Garden of Eden? I feel elated I feel depressed Sex is death, Death is sex Says it right here on my Crucifix Like a scream but sort of silent living off my nightmares Voices protecting me 'Good behavior brings the Savior to his knees.' Voices rejecting me 'Others steal your thoughts they're not confined to your own mind.' I don't wanna be here, 'cause of my suffering, 'cause of my illness. Only love is worth having, only love is what matters, loving every people on equal terms. You've got to know who you're dealin' with because, like a stranger, a-heh, just might come in through here with a gun... and then, what would you do? (Heh.) Everything is immaterial... 'n' you know that reality is immaterial. This is not reality... I'm kneeling on the floor staring at the wall like the spider in the window I wish that I could speak Is there fantasy in refuge? God in politicians? Should I turn on my religion? These demons in my head tell me to I'm lying here in bed Swear my skin is inside out Just another Sunday morning Seen my diary on the newsstand Seems we've lost the truth to quicksand It's a shame no one is praying 'Cause these voices in my head keep saying... 'Love, just don't stare.' 'Reveal the Word when you're supposed to' Withdrawn and introverted Infectiously perverted 'Being laughed at and confused keeps us pleasantly amused enough to stay.' Maybe I'm just Cassandra fleeting Twentieth century Icon bleeding Willing to risk Salvation to escape from isolation I'm witness to redemption heard you speak but never listened Can you rid me of my secrets? Deliver us from Darkness? Voices repeating me 'Feeling threatened? We reflect your hopes and fears.' Voices discussing me Don't expect your own Messiah This neverworld which you desire is only in your mind.