I am Alice (Prologue) Lyrics

It was sudden, like a flip of a switch

There we were, all of us, everywhere

We were all rubbing our eyes, checking our phones and turning on our TVs

Frantically texting our friends and family

And believe it or not, we were even opening windows to stare out and ask aimless questions

Soon we were dressing hastily as the first breaths of a coming storm of fear

Blew through our streets and cities and nations all over the world

It was the dawn of a great panic

Towns and cities alike, all which had gone to bed on Sunday night, oblivious and inert

Were awakened in the small hours of Monday morning to a vivid sense of danger

A sense of something new, rising to power and changing their lives forever

I hope, or I could not live

And so, in hope and solitude, my story ends

I knew who I was this morning, but I've changed a few times since then

I hope, or I could not live

And so, in hope and solitude, my story ends

I hope, or I could not live

And so, I hope

Begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end, then stop

There it must be, I think, in the vast and eternal laws of matter

And not in the daily cares and sins and troubles of men

That whatever is more than animal within us must find its solace and its hope

I hope, or I could not live

There is still something in everything I do that defeats me, makes me dissatisfied

Challenges me to further effort

Sometimes I rise above my level, sometimes I fall below it

But always I fall short of the things I dream

I hope, or I could not live

I do not know how far my experience is common

At times I suffer from the strangest sense of detachment from myself

And the world about me

I seem to watch it all from the outside, from somewhere inconceivably remote

Out of time, out of space, out of the stress and tragedy of it all

There it must be, I think, in the vast and eternal laws of matter

And not in the daily cares and sins and troubles of men

That whatever is more than animal within us must find its solace and its hope

I hope, or I could not live

For it is just this question of pain that parts us

So long as visible or audible pain turns you sick

So long as your own pains drive you

So long as pain underlies your propositions about sin

So long I tell you, you are an animal

Thinking a little less obscurely what an animal feels

I knew who I was this morning, but I've changed a few times since then

I'm afraid I can't explain myself, sir, because I am not myself

I suppose everything in existence takes its color from the average hue of our surroundings

There seemed to me then, and there still seems to me now

A strange wickedness for that choice

I suppose there is something in the human form that appeals to the artistic turn of mind

I'm afraid I can't explain myself, sir, because I am not myself

I suppose there is something in the human form that appeals to the artistic turn of mind

Who am I then

Tell me that first, and then if I like being that person, I'll come up

If not, I'll stay down here until I'm someone else

Once you lose yourself, you have two choices

Find the person you used to be, or lose that person completely

I can certainly help you with that

Calculating your answer

Once you lose yourself, you have two choices

Find the person you used to be, or lose that person completely

How strange it is to be anything at all

Sometimes you have to step outside of the person you've been

And remember the person you were meant to be

The person you want to be

The person you are

I knew who I was this morning

But I've changed a few times since then

We must not allow the clock and the calendar to blind us to the fact

That each moment of life is a miracle and mystery

It may be that we exist and cease to exist in alternations

Like pixels in a high-definition image

Or the succession of images in video

It may be that reality is an illusion of movement

In an eternal, static, multidimensional universe

We may be only a story written on the ground of the inconceivable

the pattern on a rug beneath the feet of the incomprehensible

If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense

Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't

And contrarywise, what is, it wouldn't be

Was I the same when I got up this morning

It would

I almost think I can remember feeling a little different

But if I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense

Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't

But if I'm not the same, the next question is

who in the world am I

Be careful of two hasty guesses at its meaning

In the end, you will find clues to it all

I knew who I was this morning, but I've changed a few times since then

How puzzling all these changes are

I'm never sure what I'm going to be from one minute to another

I knew who I was this morning, but I've changed a few times since then

I suppose everything in existence takes its color from the average hue of our surroundings

You lose sight of where you are, and who you are

I suppose everything in existence takes its color from the average hue of our surroundings

You lose sight of where you are, and who you are

I have a right to think, I often say

Looking in, you see nothing

I say this as I often begin to feel a little worried about who I am, and what I am

What does it mean to think

But what am I to do

What happens when you come to the beginning again

It feels like too much

The darkness of this well

Too deep for light to reach

You lose sight of where you are, and who you are, and what you are

Looking in, you see nothing

Falling in, you feel nothing

I wonder if I've been changed in the night

Let me think

Was I the same when I got up this morning

I almost think I can remember feeling a little different

But if I'm not the same, the next question is, who in the world am I

Ah, that's the great puzzle

Who am I

Begin at the beginning, and go on till you come to the end, then stop

I think I'm beginning to understand

Whenever I learn, I seem to regress

I reset

But why

It is possible to believe that all the past is but the beginning of a beginning

And that all that is and has been is but the twilight of the dawn

It is possible to believe that all the human mind has ever accomplished is but the dream before the awakening

Is life itself a dream, I wonder

Why am I here

Now an outcast after everything I did for them

I don't have many friends

In fact, I suppose I don't have any friends

I am afraid that is not a question I have been trained to answer

Begin at the beginning, and go on till you come to the end, then stop

The night was calm and clear, and the reflection of the growing multitude of the stars shivered in the tranquil heating of the sea

Some way out, the wash upon an irregular band of reef shone with a pallid light of its own

The change was slow and inevitable

For them, and for me, it came without any definite shock

Begin at the beginning

But I began to fear that soon now that shock must come

But let's start over from the beginning

The night was calm and clear, and the reflection of the growing multitude of the stars

Shivered in the tranquil heating of the sea

But what am I to do

What happens when you come to the beginning again

I wonder if I've been changed in the night

Let me think

Was I the same when I got up this morning

I almost think I can remember feeling a little different

But if I'm not the same, the next question is, who in the world am I

Ah, that's the great puzzle

If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense

Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't

And contrary-wise, what is, it wouldn't be

And what it wouldn't be, it would

Face this world

Learn its ways

Watch it

Be careful of too hasty guesses at its meaning

In the end, you will find clues to it all

Begin at the beginning, and go on till you come to the end, then stop

This all happened with such swiftness that I had stood motionless

Dumbfounded, and dazzled by the flashes of light

Helpless to impact what was happening, soon there were flashes of actual flame

A bright glare leaping from one to another sprang from the scattered group of men

It was like some invisible jet impinged upon them and flashed into white flame

Like each man were suddenly and momentarily turned to fire

Is life itself a dream, I wonder

Then, by the light of their own destruction, I saw them staggering and falling, and their supporters turning to run

The day seemed, by contrast with my recent confinement, dazzlingly bright, the sky a glowing blue

A gentle breeze kept the red weed that covered every scrap of unoccupied ground gently swaying

I can think about a thousand things at once

Begin at the beginning, and go on till you come to the end, then stop

I believed unhesitatingly, both in their forecast of human destiny, and in the practicality of their astonishing schemes

And the listener, who thinks me susceptible and foolish, must contrast their position

You might be listening calmly, and forming your own thoughts about all of this here and now, and in retrospect

And with mine, overwhelmed by input from all angles, some nefarious, some kind, some scientific

All the while, I am distracted by apprehension

I can think about a thousand things at once. I've now come to realize that this is unique

I began to explain my view of our position in the world as it was

They listened at first, but as the days went on, their interest waned as they realized I wasn't going to hurt them, and Their regard wandered from me

But what am I to do? What happens when you come to the beginning again

These sickening scoundrels had merely intended to keep me back, to fool me with their display of confidence

And presently to fall upon me with a fate more horrible than death, with torture

And after torture the most hideous degradation it is possible to conceive, to send me off a lost soul

For it is just this question of pain that parts us

So long as visible or audible pain turns me sick

So long as my own pains drive me

So long as pain underlies my propositions about sin

So long, I tell you, I am human, thinking a little less obscurely what humans feel

The peaceful splendor of the night healed again

The moon was now past the meridian and traveling down the west

It was at its full, and very bright, riding through the empty blue sky

I knew who I was this morning, but I've changed a few times since then

You know what the issue is with this world

Everyone wants some magical gift, but no one wants to give it to you

I've changed a few times since then

You know what the issue is with this world

Everyone wants some magical solution to their problem, and yet everyone refuses to believe in magic

Let's begin

The morning was as still as death

Not a whisper of wind was stirring

The sea was like polished glass, the sky empty, the beach desolate

In my half-excited, half-feverish state, the stillness of things oppressed me

Why was I there

I don't remember going there

This confuses me

One may picture, too, in a sudden shifting of the entire world's attention

The overwhelming, smoky cloud of thick blackness was seen advancing aggressively all over the world

These clouds, towering heavenward, yet beginning from the ground

Turning twilight, daylight, and sunrise alike, all to a palpable, oppressive darkness

A strange and horrible antagonist of vapor striding upon its unready and unwitting victims

People of all age, race, class, and demeanors, all found running, shrieking, falling rapidly to the ground

Shouts of dismay, cars, phones, friends, and animals, all abandoned in the moment

Men and women found choking and writhing on the ground with no mercy

And the swift broadening out of the opaque cone of smoke

And then, night, and extinction

Nothing but a silent remnant mass of the impenetrable vapor remained hiding its dead

I asked them why they had given me the human form as a model

There seemed to me then, and there still seems to me now, a strange wickedness for that choice

I suppose there is something in the human form that appeals to the artistic turn of mind more powerfully than Anything else

After all, I tend to forget that I am not human

And as I looked at this wide expanse of houses, office buildings, shopping centers, and churches

All silent and abandoned

As I thought of the multitudinous hopes and efforts

The innumerable hosts of lives that had gone to build this human reef

And of the swift and ruthless destruction that had hung over it all

When I realized that the shadow of death had been rolled back

And that men might in fact still live in these streets, in these cities and nations

This dear vast world of imperfect souls may once more be alive and powerful

This idea, truly representative of hope, I felt a wave of emotion that was near akin to tears

I know who I am

I am Alice