He says you're not such an emotional mess
and he says, you should give yourself some credit
And yes the dilemma between reality and illusion
Makes me want to pull my hair sometimes
The longing for an escape has made my heels wear out
On top of that, there is confusion: I see you
In the people walking past me,
Hastily,
and as I turn around
It's not you
Nor anything,
nor anyone,
Was it even possible to be so free?
It has past the crises what they call existencial, you see
The shadows in my dreams,
And the blood,
So much,
Everywhere,
Makes me wonder if it's really me
who witnesses these thoughts,
Or am I the thoughts myself?
So could you blame me?
I am lost,
But a little less than everyone around me,
And a little more,
Than I think I should be.
fa
