Lie, say "Ah! the deception" but no, the love.
The over-interpreted becomes un-interpreted.
Your mind breathes over-complication.
Yet my mind deceives the same.
Modified by the touch of a woman,
Tamed by the love in her voice.
Who said a lie is what I am living?
Who said a lie is not worth living?
No, you lie, not I, she is mine, she is the good in me.
Deception has no credence here, nor the immorality of men.
All of mine is still hers, she is enough for me.
But will she share her complexity?
Will she practice her life with me?
You see my confounded solemnity.
My desire: to tell you you're the good in me.
My require: your uninterrupted service to me.