I found a half of mine
I lost it when I was born
Maybe that's not perfect one
So I keep to seek a half of mine
When I think you there is not
I think it equal to you
That is not a woman all
I can't see the shape of truth
I feel, when I hear the voice of John
Love is an imperfect answer
Words are caught in prison of soul
So I get to display it by strings
As I live through my life
I feel it going blank
Give me some pills to heal my clear heart pure enough
Then I feel this world full of perfect lies
When I drink and smoke
I get illusions
All logics and metaphor can't work in it
I cry...