The thoughts of you preoccupy me
My days, my nights,
My personal stories about you, they sanctify me
The late nights we'd spend examining the eroticised city
The quiet moments we'd weakly fight its monstrous credibility
The early mornings we'd reflect its breathtaking need of poetry
Over numberless cigarettes
And countless cups of coffee
Quoting lyrics of our favourite song, escaping reality...
Exploring our raging connection like connoisseurs
And slaves to untutored passion, unlearned propagandas
Moving rhythmically on instincts and conjectures
No disclaimers, no disclosures
No dilemmas, just self-conscious
And an accomplice so uninhibited, a romantic promiscuous
Perhaps soulmates like you and I
Perhaps anonymous poets
With thoughts preoccupied
My days, my nights,
My personal stories about you, they sanctify me
The late nights we'd spend examining the eroticised city
The quiet moments we'd weakly fight its monstrous credibility
The early mornings we'd reflect its breathtaking need of poetry
Over numberless cigarettes
And countless cups of coffee
Quoting lyrics of our favourite song, escaping reality...
Exploring our raging connection like connoisseurs
And slaves to untutored passion, unlearned propagandas
Moving rhythmically on instincts and conjectures
No disclaimers, no disclosures
No dilemmas, just self-conscious
And an accomplice so uninhibited, a romantic promiscuous
Perhaps soulmates like you and I
Perhaps anonymous poets
With thoughts preoccupied
-PRK-
