Confusion

Sing to me your favourite song,
I know you'd bite my forearm
if you didn't go singing along
watching for traps to disarm.

A pea butt ice cream for you,
a t-shirt with your pic for me,
a black apple that looks blue
and a submarine on Dead Sea.

I never did what you said,
I never put my heart for sale,
neither I charmed a mermaid
nor go to desert in a whale.

One thing is true: nothing.
Nothing is everything, and not.
Since nothing is not a thing,
so I hit pineapples in the spot.

You better activate mental block
before of all this confusion.
All the doors you will knock
will lead you to another illusion.