He says he looks in the mirror. And he can't tell anymore. Who he really is and who they believe him to be. And he says he walks a thin line. Between what is and what could be. He's getting closer. To something he can't understand. Cause there's a crack in his plastic crown. And his throne of ice is melting. He climbed his ladder. And there was nothing there. And now it's a long way down. Cause on and on and on he goes. Dancing on the grave. Of what he thought was still alive. On and on and on he goes. Dancing in mansions made of twigs. And castles made of sand. He says his head is filled with. Cartoons and fairy tales. And he's trapped inside a dungeon of dolls. With smiles on their faces. He's built a pretty cage. His shows on a beautiful stage. With candy coated prison bars. And chains that look like jewelry. Cause there's a crack in his plastic crown. And his throne of ice is melting. He climbed his ladder. And there was nothing there. And now it's a long way down. Cause he lives inside. A fairy tale sand castle now. And there's room inside. For false expectations and illusions