you move like the weather

think like an anthill

eating the horizon

feeling this anguish

 

touched by your feelings

your needs like my wings

we dance without moving

without speaking we sing

 

everything changes me

thoughts rearrange me

you might find it strange

sixty-forty you’re the same

 

dancing through the boredom

imagining our paper kingdom

lost in rhythms

dragged out by the sea

 

hear the moon singing

feel the evil passing

we touch a bit of everything

Sticking to our dreams