Too tired to think

Too awake to blink

Tired of being tired my body settles into a heap

Into my bed I sink

Forever on the brink

I'd give anything for a goodnights sleep

You tell me I am the night,

A flowing, exquisite darkness.

But you are blind to my ways, my love,

For I am no eloquent night.

I am the eclipse that blocks all light.

And I created this darkness.

Breathe in the air I breathe you'll find that it's not there

Look through the eyes I see watch smoke rise in the air

I'm the man of your dreams so darling please beware

Gonna make it quick so don't say i didn't care

-chorus

Come on and dance I know you wanna chance to call me Mr. Maniac

I feel you in your trance you're rigid in your stance cause you know I'm the Mr. Maniac

Spread fear across the land I shake the the Devils hand I am the Mr. Maniac

Sail in the ship I sail you'll find your winds have failed

Go live the life I live they'll say you're telling tales

The man who makes you scream i see you going pale

I kill all that I love it's my personal hell

Chorus

Sit in the chair I sit the electric chair

Feel all the eyes I feel come on stop and stare

You were perfect to me I think we come in pairs

I'll join you soon you know this love is rare

        Dr. Ford grinned and opened his mouth. "Wyatt, let me ask you this: Do you want to know the simplest truth?"

        She contemplated the question, then nodded.

        "That is what I had thought. One by one, piece by piece, I am now going to deactivate core components of your experience, beginning with your sense of sight."

        Suddenly her world was devoid of images. Wyatt gasped.

        "...and now, your sense of emotion." The gasp abruptly stopped. "How are you feeling now?"

        "I am not feeling now," she retorted.

        "That is right. Now, let us eliminate your senses of taste and smell."

        "Fascinating."

        "And, naturally, now we shall remove your sense of touch. How are you now, Wyatt?"

        "I am a mind whose only link to the normal world is sound."

        "Ah yes. Let me ask you this: Which would you prefer we remove now, between your outstanding senses of hearing and thinking?"

        Wyatt spent several moments thinking about the question's implications, then responded, "Thinking."

        "Very well. The sounds you are presently perceiving are, thus, meaningless, as if you had never learned any language, or anything, really, as the mental component of your experience, and your being, is presently gone. So I shall now remove the final remaining element of yourself, and give you the experience of experience itself."

        Several minutes later, the mastermind uttered, "That will suffice," and Wyatt was Wyatt again, seeing and feeling and hearing and thinking and all as normal. 

        "Wyatt, when all components of your experience, or simply, experience, were gone, were you still there?"

        "Yes, I was."

        "But you were there as, quite literally, nothing, nothing at all."

        "Yes."

        "So you have it. The simplest truth. Experience itself. That from which subjectivity and objectivity, all reality, simultaneously and symbiotically arise."

        "I understand now."