We're all subjects of love Subjects of fear and longing living day by day because - Smiling at the right people, vibing the wrong. Everyone sings their own song of their own love.
Fear and longing hide in the inner parts. I never wanted an ignorant melody thickly articulated through a cloud of smoke, tickling a beer glass confused and stenching because- We all learned some manners as children and knew they were true, waving our banners of politeness, mine red, yours blue. Purple would be a royal colour if we combined the two.
You're wrong. I might be right because- all heads are "me" when they hit the pillow at night.