my words are empty

When I look at my dreams, I depict a communist.
When I touch my balls, I portray a humanist.
Aren’t we eager to reveal the truth?
No way, my friend, the truth is not our domain, nor none of our business!

Nothing should withhold our dreams from becoming reality, from becoming ours, from apprehending our lives!!!
Maybe, but that’s not how things should be done in life…
Why not?
Because we are driven by emotions!!!!
We are slaves of our feelings, don’t you see?

I create an atmosphere where I don’t eat my words.
My words, on the contrary, betray me continuously, they don’t depict the left side of my brain but spit out the inner core of a rotten apple.
Why are we dying?
Because we don’t confess!

Look, it’s not about shouting,
It’s not about walking in circles,
It’s not about lying,
It’s not about smoking,
It’s about argumentation Sir.

Our arguments are collapsing with us.
I know, but at least we tried, at least we gave a battle.