I can't remember if this is the place that we met
Or has the continental drift brought us eternal loneliness
I can't tell if when we say I love you well is it true?
Or some inconsequential tick of our collective consciousness
Well I keep, imagining your face in suffering
Are we a symbiotic miss? always chasing happiness
Love is a reciprocating charge when it's plugged in
A web of incandescent thread glowing with electricity
But I can't tell if when the bulb is shining well is it plugged in?