Sometimes when I look down upon the world, I wonder if it's real or if it's just a paper replica of something that once was, or once was a dream, and that someone somewhere up above is actually looking over everything, so that when you're down there you're not really in control, you're just another one of those little dots walking around in a doll's house in a doll's world, with doll furniture and doll fountains, doll babies and doll prams, doll joggers and doll sized takeaway coffee cups warming little fingers through little mittens. Sometimes when I look down, I wonder if what I see is real, or if it's just a replica of something that once was. Or once was a dream. And I wonder if someone somewhere up there is looking down on me, so I'm not in control - I'm just another dot, another mark on it all - I'm wandering around in a doll house world.