Lying alone on that hotel room but with her still present in the warm of the sheets and the taste in his mouth and the sweet on his skin
He has walked the roads turning bleak a child of Entropia setting himself on fire seeking a distant past for a way out
Challenging the concept freedom and youth falling into the undertow
Can You see him now?"
She is twelve I'm only ten buried in this soft mountain of pillows Parents away She asks me have I been touched Have I done the thing with anyone yet Silence a shy no
And there is nothing That we'd rather share Than that bodily warmth if we'd dare But she's already twelve and I am Just a child warm and shine
She's so old already twelve and I am only ten Than was me, young and free, there and then
Now in this hotel room I lie wondering who I am Never quite as sure after a lie of questioning Finding out at last that freedom is a state of mind But still not knowing how to get along with this mankind
finding out at last that freedom is a state of mind
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