With you, I'm intoxicated.
But this is fabricated.
See, in my mind, I've made this.
So I cannot let it be.
There's no magic elixer,
for this dramatic mixture.
So, please don't paint a picture
of what you want me to see.
Let me embrace your flaws.
Sex protected, love is raw.
Frozen hearts can be flawed,
if you let me set you free.
But there is no gradification,
if we can't make a seperation,
between reality and a fabrication.
Which one are you to me?

