The lonely twosome.

I speak the language of cirkels.
My lips form an O.
My mind shift in forms like clouds move in the sky.
Emotions dived themselfs, like small waves on the ocean.
Barely visual for the untrained eye, subtle but strong beyond belief.
I remember things but forget so easy.
What is one moment is not the next.
I live but with no real respect for life.
Death allures me more, for peace of mind is the song of my heart.

You speak the language of the squares.
Mouth move in a stream of words.
Your mind is clear like ice and sometimes just as hard.
Your emotions are all the same, rested on firm belife.
One truth you have and you never forget.
Shift you do but never for me.
Life is your all because when you die your dead with no more to come.

Togehter we´re lonesome.
Apart it´s all the same.
It could be perfect but also a game.
We choose...