My eyes are open but I can’t see

Anything that makes any sense to me

My ears are working but I just can’t hear

Anything but the thudding of my own fear

I can reach and touch but I just can’t feel

Anything that’s like what I believe is real

My mouth is open but I just can’t say

Anything that doesn’t make other people run away


Cuz I’m a conspiraloon

I don’t go out and party

Too busy fearing the illuminati

Yeh I’m a conspiraloon

I can’t just go out and have some fun

I need to find the truth about  9/11

Oh I’m a conspiraloon

If I go out I might fry

In what they’re dropping from the sky

Yeh I’m a conspiraloon

There are lizards on my back

And all my evidence is cack..


My thoughts are closed to any current affairs

I’m lost in the past, but I don’t wear flares

My mind won’t do politics and the like

I prefer to wear a silly mask and read David Icke

My eyes believe everything I see on the net

Unless it’s proven fact, but it’s a cover up I bet

And I must be right because so many others agree

In my online , worldwide community.

(rpt chorus)

My keyboard needs replacing every six months

I don’t see my friends now, they prefer to go get drunk

When they should be helping build the Utopia

That will appear when I open my curtains if I shake this agoraphobia!


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