Like sliding doors, invisible to the mortal eye
I drift between realms, like clouds in the sky
From fantasy to reality the Dark Prince becomes real
Then back to being Matthew in a world, which we both feel
Escaping to a neverworld, where my fears are slain
Then I wake up to a society echoing my pain
I see the Dragons that breathe fire, and the Trolls and Orcs
But In my reality they wear football shirts and pay mind game sports
The drunken inns in a village of knights
Echoes London's streets, with loutish fights
I see the woman of the night selling their goods
To the gangs of kids with Nike hoods
I am Falling back into fantasy again I become a druid
Creating life from herbal fluids
Bemoaning the sorcerers with their hands of Magic
Where the deformed experiments are reminders of a time so tragic
I think these things now as I sat here on the train
Realizing that every world I create is the same