Sometimes...
The world in our minds
Is so sublime 

That we just cannot resist 
We're under our own spell

So just
What will we find by pondering 
Meanwhile our minds are wandering 
Think of the time we're squandering 
For "truth"...

There's only one way to know 
What lies beyond the grave...

Gripping tightly onto our imaginings
These images 
That we favor above all other things....
All other things...

Spellbound by our own minds
And we've seen where this can go...

Don't you know...
Only doubt can set you free
'Cause only through doubt can truth be seen to be 
There's no way of knowing otherwise
What's truth and what's nothing but lies 
When anything goes...goes...goes...
When anything goes...

'Cause we don't get to choose what we want the truth to be

So just 
What's this about suggestion 
Accepted without a question when 
Only through doubt can the truth be seen as true?