I don't know why I do the things I do.
perhaps I'm indecisive, or
perhaps I'm just a jerk.
I don't know why you do the things you do.
Perhaps you see potential, or
perhaps you're just playing around.
I don't know what will become
of any of this.
I don't really where we are right now,
or where we are going.
As for our destination, well,
I can't recall why we've fallen silent
As of late.
But the birdsong seems to echo through
the islands of my mind, the tiny
tropical passageways leading to
my empty, fool-hearted passions.
I don't know why I think the things I think.
Perhaps I'm really lonely, or
Perhaps I'm just a jerk.