What if one day,
While walking down the street
You met a homeless man
With mud on his feet

And what if he told you
Your life was a lie
And all that you knew
Was all in your mind

And earth as you knew it
In a horrible twist
In actuality
Did not exist

All reality
Was of your creation
And everything in it
From your imagination

And when you die
No heaven, no hell
But a little white bed
In a little white cell

And in the white cell
Where you wake
You live a straight-jacket life
Of a mentally insane

And you open your eyes
And you're back on the street
Talking to a statue
With mud at it's feet