Two level heads aware of the other,
chasing round and round with voices.
Things said back and forth, yet nothing
different when making choices.

All for one and one for me,
inclined on being right before 12:30.
Fighting isn't new, just a shuffled voice in place of the last feud.

It comes too easy, the chase, that is.
Preying back and forth for another
opportunity rather than miss.

That's the true difference between
you and I, you see. I look for
truth: bitter and cold, while you look for sympathy.