Illusionism (3)

(Verse 1) What is a rainbow anyway? Just light that's bent a certain way. Not something you can ever hold. A trick of perspective, so I'm told. (Pre-Chorus) Is a rainbow really in our heads, is it really some sort of lie? 'Cause today my camera saw colours, arcing up through the sky. (Chorus) You say it's all just patterns in dust but we give it our hearts, we give it our trust You talk of reflections, of smoke in the air, our minds all bent to what’s barely there. You say love's a dream, that it's not really true... Well I don't care, I still love you. (Verse 2) What is redness anyway? Just an idea, is what you'd say. Not a wavelength, not spikes inside. The deeper truths are the ones that hide. (Pre-Chorus) Thank God for qualia, that science can't explain, for redness and cinnamon, for love, and for pain. (Chorus) You say it's all just patterns in dust but we give it our hearts, we give it our trust You talk of reflections, of smoke in the air, our minds all bent to what’s barely there. You say love's a dream, that it's not really true... Well I don't care, I still love you. (Bridge) What is a promise, but breath on the air? We cling to ideas but they’re not really there A hope for tomorrow, a wish in the breeze A story we tell ourselves just to believe That we're more than blind patterns More than physics and atoms You say that we live in illusions we make That nothing is solid, it's all a mistake But love’s like a rainbow: it’s there in the end Even if you can’t see it, my friend Your science might be right, love might be a lie But I looked up today and saw arcs in the sky (Pre-Chorus) You say it’s all tricks that play in the brain You just can’t believe what you can’t explain. (Chorus) You say it's all just patterns in dust but we give it our hearts, we give it our trust You talk of reflections, of smoke in the air, our minds all bent to what’s barely there. You say love's a dream, that it's not really true... Well I don't care, I still love you. (Outro) So tell me it’s false, that there's nothing in here but a neural model of all I hold dear. Say it's all spikes, it may well be true. But I’ll follow that arc through the deep, deep blue.