When I compare my eyes and close them dark
And all around me is just dark as well,
I still manage to see a little spark
That somewhere deep inside me seems to dwell.
And although it is dark inside this room
I can still see the pictures in my head
As though my memory defies the gloom
And light is where there should be dark instead.
So somewhere there is light inside my mind,
Although there are no windows as we know,
Then how is it that pictures I still find
And what is it that makes those pictures glow?
A thousand trillion pulsing synapses,
That make me think what isn't really is.
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