Everyone seems not to be alone
Everyones tounge has an ear

Its a cliché old tale,
Alone in a room filled with the pale

But I see others in my place
And I fear we're a different race

We see the happiness and life
but then why do we only feel strife?

I think we don't really know
how to stand on our own and go

To leave and never look again
at the faces that aren't in pain