Ten thousand plastic eyeballs Float through space. Why don’t you listen when you See my face? It’s a grim prediction, but I Told you so, and Everyone says that there’s no explanation And nobody wanted to know. Something’s terribly, terribly wrong with me. Ten thousand light years away Feelings of dread like a deathbed’s Silent gloom. I found a pile of red tape In my room. There’s a lucid feeling of Insanity, and Everyone says that there’s no explanation And it’s simply the norm to agree. Just several weeks ago There was a status quo. Ten thousand light years away.