Here I am, alone. In a cold and dark zone.
There is no warmth, It's cold.
Because there is something that I never told.
In a life of loneliness, there was something that I couldn't confess.
I saw happy people, hugging and smiling. And their luck just kept up piling.
Because they had wonderful love to send, and the receiver was their mate and friend.
But the only friend I had was me, nobody was there to make me feel free.
So now I stand here alone, in this cold and lonely zone.
While an exit I try to find, this question keeps spinning in my mind:
Why am I here, and what should I do, when I haven't got anyone to give my love to?
There is no warmth, It's cold.
Because there is something that I never told.
In a life of loneliness, there was something that I couldn't confess.
I saw happy people, hugging and smiling. And their luck just kept up piling.
Because they had wonderful love to send, and the receiver was their mate and friend.
But the only friend I had was me, nobody was there to make me feel free.
So now I stand here alone, in this cold and lonely zone.
While an exit I try to find, this question keeps spinning in my mind:
Why am I here, and what should I do, when I haven't got anyone to give my love to?
