The Dance

Written by: Carlos Mongrut

Lost in the forest of surreal imagination
I see you looking at my mind
with something to hide you give me a smile
with nothing to give I feel you so mine

Our fingers are playing little games
games of love
our hands are holding the vine of desire
they don't stop until our bodies become one

The music of madness is alive
everyone poisoning
our worlds are shaking
the same way we are surfing on the waves of our own rhythm

Carlos Mongrut