I'm afraid it seems that I,
Can't runaway from my sadness,
It is fragmented in my soul,
I'm tired of all the madness of
This world,
It is such a ridicule place
I can't keep up the pace,
With the race against our race,
There's nothing else to do,
Than keep chasing up the haze.
Looking up to the sky,
I'm yelling up at life,
Urging it to end,
I never asked for this.
The more I grow,
The smaller I feel,
It's time to accept that I'm
Not made for this world.
Mar 23, 2017
Mar 23, 2017 at 9:42 AM UTC
I'm afraid it seems that I,
Can't runaway from my sadness,
It is fragmented in my soul,
I'm tired of all the madness of
This world,
It is such a ridicule place
I can't keep up the pace,
With the race against our race,
There's nothing else to do,
Than keep chasing up the haze.
Looking up to the sky,
I'm yelling up at life,
Urging it to end,
I never asked for this.
The more I grow,
The smaller I feel,
It's time to accept that I'm
Not made for this world.
