i  met a man who answer
"i dont know"
when watching rerun tapes
of his  love kissing under mistletoe
surrogate the times being drunk at home
petrified
as if he became a ghost
cause these days find us
when we track down truth
not the processed kind
capitalized behind a golden tooth
i mean the genuine taste of something real
Things untouched, kissed and sealed
oh in this world its too pure to find
one who holds such a beautiful mind
with schizophrenic intellect
words, colors and space combined
all would then been seen clearly
When i met
this man who answered
"i don't know"
He was suiting up for his daily show
staring at the screen
wishing it was real
pressing  play
whispering
"We meet again my needle  in a hey"
But as the tape rolls to an end
Reality never seems to bend
So instead of searching for somthing real
He waits till his love rewinds backwards on a  wheel.