Self-doubt,
Self-doubt,
It's what I do.
This music, this sound,
This voice and these words.
All that carry "me",
It's not writing nor music, ****,
It's certainly not "art."
When the boundaries seem unclear we don't have a language.
That day you fainted, your eyes looked right through me,
From nowhere in particular,
From nowhere in particular,
Dislocated,
Light,
Monotonous.
And when I touched you I turned you into a girl,
Only for a moment,
Soon you'll come back to me,
But when I touched you I could turn you into a girl,
And I could love you wildly, girly, wildly, girly, boundlessly, wildly.