I had a dream one night.
when I shivered in fear,
I shivered in fright.

I met a paper man
who was a cold little fellow.
he dreamed of fire, he dreamed of sight

So as I watched him,
he lit a match.
the flames biting, clawing, consuming.

But his hand got too close.
he shrieked in fear, and he shrieked in fright
as he became a light.

Even as I watched, 
the flames consumed the paper man.
and the flames consumed him, in his fear and in his fright.

Are we all paper men?
do we wish for our own destruction?
do we burn ourselves alive?

Are we addicted to the demon drink?
or the adrenaline of flight?
or are we falling to curiosity?

Our lives are our own,
but, remember the moral of the story,
the story of the paper man.

But at the end, few listen
and few see,
the little paper man whispered to the flames;

Kill Me.