Everytime I caught my eye on orange window seeing nothing but emptiness I ask myself... too many questions... why?
It's not clear enough, not for me it's not. Nothing is. Busy dying or busy living? Not for me.
Wondering r U here? No longer than me? I'm not.
No more wrong impressions. No more ups and downs, on and offs, keep it in for a while.
Like I do for a long time. Like I do for some good times to come.
There's no dreamland for me, where I can feel myself completely. Like I see U do sometimes, just for keeping it simple, like they want U to.
It's just so easy...not for me it's not.
'cause of too many damn questions...why?
