In Between

Angels come as demons fall, I open my eyes, one lie fits all. Meaningless banter, a solemn vow, heaven and hell look the same to me now. A match without fire, a game without win. It's time that I wake up, but where to begin. There's a hole in the window, a lie made of hope. When dealing with what's real, it's a slippery slope. Some things are real, some are clearly fake, but some are in the middle, like me before I wake. The sound of quaint laughter, the voice rings a bell, when all that is reason, sent that laughter to hell. Yet it drones on through silence, a message, a plea. A constant reminder of a far off destiny. The cold wind is blowing, from chaos to change, the cowboy sits alone singing home on the range, as a tool to cope with the fear and the doubt, till he finds himself, and what this riddle's all about.