No man knows me or sees me,
I am the ghost in the machine
I am silent and I am dreaming,
Faceless and nameless am I.
Will o the wisp slips through my fingers,
Thistledown floats from afar.
Only as a ghost can we all reveal
The people we truly are.
All here is a vision of a dream,
A floating ribbon inside my head.
Here we can find what people mean,
Free from the illusions of reality.
And this is the realm of glory:
That equality reigns for all,
Perhaps that is the deus intus machina
And I its ghost to call.