To be lost is a blessing, To be care free, To be ignorant,
What does a man with a present mind has except worries and troubles, The perks of being a lost soul calls me, it pulls me in,
It shows me the perks as a dish on a silver platter, It wants me to join the Land of the lost souls,
Oh what have I gained from being a realist!
Except sorrows and pains, Heart breaks and betrayal, Sadness and depression,
Oh How I wish I was lost! How I wish I was free, How I wish I had wings that would transit me to the other world,the world of the lost,
To escape the prison of reality, to be a member of Fantasy,
The goblins of reality haunts the poor realist souls but the angels of fantasy/Ignorance sprinkle some magic in our path,
And we sometimes drift to greatness, We indulge in Peace as we stand in the middle of war, In the storm untouched by lightning, Stay afloat on the sea of destruction.