It's not me.
I don't usually do this.
It's not me.

I'm not normally like this.
It's not me.
So where have I been then?

It's not me.

So where have I gone?

How long ago did I leave?
Where have I gone?
Can anyone still see me?

Where have I gone?
And who the hell should I believe, is me?


I'm sure that by the water somewhere,
among the broken things that gather, there.
I might be found, safe and sound.


So why can't I feel?
The sadness walks around me.

Why can't I feel?
All the terrible things that I see.
Why can't I feel?

How beautiful it's supposed to be,
to me? (x4)