Between nougat bits and pretzel sticks, I feel dry.
If I don't go to you, you don't come to me,
you just don't come to me.
Lying next to a body that loves so much, yet can't be free.
I get that prison,
I am stuck there too.
I'm in the yard, and you are in the shoe,
but it's the same prison in the end.
We share the striped moon at night, the only time we both dare to dream though we can only cry.
Because you and I are both dry,
and maybe, our adventure makes us worse.
I need to calm down,
you need to feel.
we are trapped in the prison of our minds.