What are the words for?

What do they do?

"They can only do harm", Depeche Mode says.

What are the touches for?

What have they become?

"There is a charge for a touch", she says.

What's its price?

We struggle like the waves around us.

We come and go, we sway in a circle we made.

Sometimes bitter, sometimes calm, we rarely become clear but we keep on dancing in the sea

Even when the music stops

Our motions are endless as we live

We swallow ourselves: the stronger you are the better.

We march on together, we float and we settle and we start to move again.

Ugh waves. They're just like us. We're just like them. A nonstop circle we draw till we die.