When I wonder, could it be that we are living in a dream?
We are not here to love each other, only
We are here to spread our genes, considering
There are no guarantees, no guarantees
When we met I was a broken magnet
Still polar, just feeling, feeling oh-so tragic
Fastened in to a melancholic kind of static
Considering, considering its all standing still
While I review the well-cut grooves of my mental habit
It may seem like I am well out of practice
My motions, my actions, all witless and tactless
Could it be I'm only going through the steps?