When he wakes up each day, what does Saul have before him?
Another day of 2-D people, names on lists and associated numbers.
Nothing ever moves for him - his life is on repeat.
No feeling, no dimension, just the work routine.

"This is not what it means to be alive" Saul reassures himself
But he cant help but wonder when his turn to live begins.

In his mind a million colors flash, an endless cascade of brilliance
But his deadened face shows nothing to his fellow workers at the corporate office

Saul has built himself a world, a world inside his head.
He dreams of bright green forests, turquoise beaches and scarlet birds
But all his life ever shows him are stationary figures in black and white.

Saul never learned to play guitar, he hasn't wrote or drawn since school
Cause that's not something that grown ups do...
As so the beauty is trapped inside his mind

Left with little other option, Saul retreats into his mind.
He might be sitting in his cubicle, but that's not where he spends his days

For the last few weeks Saul's has been happy
But his productivity has dropped.
There were no lists for him to type where he has spent his days
Sitting at his desk and dreaming

"Saul, I'm afraid we need to talk" rips him from his slumber.
"It seems we'll have to let you go, your numbers have been failing."

For a while, nothing's changed for Saul
Instead of at his desk, he's been dreaming from the couch
But his funds wont last for long

And neither will what we've been calling Saul...