You can't be serious, can you?
You can't be telling the truth here
cause the truth bares consequence,
prospects of the irrelevant. 

You can't be telling me
these things you see,
cause the sky is dark
and the sun is fading this drudgery...

Like you could balance
both hope and pessimism,
both care and ignorance,
both lust and sensitivity.

The lose ends are tied
as I look inside
and wait.
Turning this page,
turning your gaze on your self.

How could you open your mouth?