You're in a trance called superstition   Collecting and believing the voices from the past created by lesser men,   never forgetting their names   Every blinking eyelid holds a dream.      I know that you can see shadows   but this time I think you're mistaken   And when the night has gone badly   and headlights are screaming at me   I have one more question for you -   What is it you think you see?      I have one more question for you -   What is it you think you see?