I found a half of mine I lost it when I was born Maybe that's not perfect one So I keep to seek a half of mine When I think you there is not I think it equal to you That is not a woman all I can't see the shape of truth I feel, when I hear the voice of John Love is an imperfect answer Words are caught in prison of soul So I get to display it by strings As I live through my life I feel it going blank Give me some pills to heal my clear heart pure enough Then I feel this world full of perfect lies When I drink and smoke I get illusions All logics and metaphor can't work in it I cry...