Like the moon and the sun
In tandem, we take turns,
To passionately play for fun
Both on and off the dreadful pitch.
Between the devil and the deep blue sea,
The game of truth is hard to fish.
Yet we argue against, crystals
Clearer than even a devil can see.
Hello! All these scores and victory
Had no trophy spoiling bee honey
Yet we fight like tomorrow is stung,
Soaking pillows with tears on the bed.
Sorry may or may not be easy to say:
But you win is the song I love to sing
Let the wind blow the trees to bend,
For the bed of rest is filled with tears.