I will tell you later
if you tell me now

There is yours
and there is mine
there is no us
like in storybooks

I am young
and you are restless
I am reckless
and you are wise

To the outside
we might be combined
but there is yours
and there is mine

Our stalemate love
is a sour tragedy
bitter on our lips
and tongues

Because there is yours
and there is mine
and what we have
we can't combine

You are the restless soul
that has been aged
and I am the youth
that is your pastime

Stalemate love
for stalemate lives -

How can something so fair
be so -

There is beauty within failure*
Is my life then a tale of a fair maiden
surrounded by a macabre beauty?


Then it is not the tragedy
written in my sins
on bloodstained paper
that I've been practicing


Or is the beauty in
learning from you failures?
'Cause then all these lessons have been lost on me