Constellations spoke no words at all
when they could right interfere,
some missing points to draw a line
maybe the ones I've never had.

When the day comes it's already gone,
back and forth, in the end stuck here
for reality is my thorn and my spine,
then I can't separate good from bad.

The measure of time won't be long
so it's been what until now I steered,
there isn't more than meets the eye
I'll never know myself what's inside my head.