No
one can seem to be
What
they seem to be
Were
they meant to see
This
story
Or just the
facets of the memory?
Would
the two
Different
sides of the same story
Clear
the edges
From
being so blurry
Can
they even coincide?
What's there to show?
What's there to hide?
What's there to hide?
Somewhere
between
Reality
and the memory
Is
the true story
But it's
all history
There's
always
Two
sides to every coin
And
different versions
Of
every truth
And
every lie
We
try, to find our way
To
just convey
How
we perceive
Each day
Do
you believe
Or
can conceive
A
different version of your truth
Or
were we simply
Just deceived?
Without
ever really seeking proof