My face, ripping
My mind, tripping
My focus, lacking
My trip, immaculate.
My gaze, fervent.

Cold as gas, wet as thought,
Wrong as rain, love is fought.
My soul is sharp, his tongue is deadly
Our hearts together, ring to a medly that doesn't have a point, only a purpose,
There to be, not to do, and doesn't need ANYTHING to do with you.

That's why he's always trying to get away from me,
but you can't run away from your own body.
That's why he's still here.
But you can't be in love with your own mind.
That's why he isn't.
But you won't hear this coming from him.

Like soft wind, wrapping around my shoulders,
Your ethereal touch makes me feel invisible.
I'm complacent just listening.
And that's why Spry doesn't like you.
You give him too much to love.
He sure is a child sometimes.