We'll meet from nine to ten
Because my soul explodes
but you don't have the time,
I sit here in the darkness
writting poetic crap.
I lost my sense of self,
and can't see, now i'm blind.
I smell the floor beneath me,
I miss Japan so much.
And even tho i try
to think further ahead,
my heart, my soul, my hands
press rewind in my head.
I think of all the memories
together we have made,
and were perhaps those memories
that left us were we stand?
I sit and think about
your thoughts, your dreams, your fears
I know them all too well,
I've read them in my dreams.
My fear, I'll tell you now,
is that indeed I've dreamed,
and I don't really am
and never met your skin.
Because if Tyké cheated
and wasn't really there,
I wonder what dark mystery
she'll throw now in my way.
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