Black Balloons

Dara awakes like some kind of snake. She slithers across the afternoon. Mind in a twist, she notices her wrists tied To a string of black balloons. That's right. Tragedy, it's not what it Seems. Late at night, we walk through our Dreams. Down on the pavement, Dara displays her brand-new Balloons to lookers on. They shake their head, she's at it again. She isn't impressing anyone. No one. No one. Tragedy, it's not what it Seems. Late at night, we walk through our Dreams. Wandering, finding some other way. Just to find it's all the Same. It's all the same. It's all the same.