The train of my thoughts

to be honest I don't know what I'm looking for - who to be
sitting here as once before, weeks ago - just waiting for a knock on that door
and I have left all I thought was me to find out, to make sure if it was you or me
that made me feel so free and real, but when we kiss I don't know, I just don't know
'cause it leaves a taste of emptiness, and I think What if I'm simply depressed?
blind, just finding rest from my mind here in Budapest?
confusing zest with the joy of being blessed with the bliss of self-escape as we kiss?
and mixing my being unstressed with your being undressed and the taste of being true
with the fresh taste of me and you as we touch? I don't know
but I saw so much of me in you, the me I've missed, the young and free in you
but still, that doesn't mean a thing, may not mean anything about my needing you
but I guess we had to meet, to be near; to make sure, and still my dear
beyond this bed and that door, to be honest, I fear I just don't know