Alteration

Every word feels like it's already been spoken
And every time I redecorate it looks the same
I'm so keen to try and keep up with alteration
That some things never seem to change
Is this a paradox?
Perhaps

Perhaps it is

I feel like I've been to every place there is
And I know what you'll say before you do
I know we'll soon fall into old routines
How passionately I'll fight with you
Is this a paradox?
Perhaps

Perhaps it is

I'm independent, dependent on you
And I forgot how to fall asleep alone
I'm in a trance, while dancing with you
The confusion is exclusively my own
My own

Are there really little things worthwhile
Does it really matter how I spend my time?
I chose all the meaningful, over the trivial
Still something is missing from my life
Is this a paradox?
Perhaps
Perhaps it is

I'm independent, dependent on you
And I forgot how to fall asleep alone
I'm in a trance, while dancing with you
The confusion is exclusively my own
My own

Do you think of things the way I do?
Which one of us thinks the most?
Will I ever be able to really read you?
Or will I never really know?

I'm independent, dependent on you
The way I always wanted things to be
So why this confusion, entirely my own
Did you also forget how to sleep alone?

I'm not saying anything is perfect
And I'm not saying I'm ready to let go
Or to be dependent
But maybe this time it'll be different
Maybe it'll all be different

And I could take a couple of steps
In the somewhat right direction

Maybe