Good morning,
good morning, the weaponisation of life,
bears a resemblance to you.
Each morning, my dreams leave a taste in my thoughts which bears a resemblance to you.

By afternoon, I’m wandering, and through glistening windows, everyone bears a resemblance to you.
This afternoon, I hoped my fantasies would be quenched, my heart tense, then I realised,
my imagination had blocked my view.

Tonight, each night, I rest, as I walk through your rivers in my slumber,
each moonlit reflection,
bears a resemblance to you.

But only when I look in broken mirrors, can I see that solace is all that’s true.