You just met your match made in interpersonal paradise
where the clouds seem to dissipate and
the imaginary fields of ten feet tall sunflowers never wither in the sun

Was it in your own personal utopia with clear visions?
The kind like the top of a balcony you go to think at night when your parents are fast asleep
Or maybe your starry-eyed dream,
one of a love story with a never-ending tale

It's just a gray matter lost city begging to be explored
with the idea of never being alone
Like a fantasy, quenching every primitive thirst
more than any other substance is capable of relieving

I'll gladly be your self-control, if you stay my voice of reason.