How do I feel, anyway?
Should I know?
When everything around is black and gray,
and colder than the fallen snow.

I don't fit into stereotypes,
where all colours faded.
I wanna show you these neon stereo hypes,
because they all were blended.

One day I really hate myself,
but I don't mind the next.
And something I can't get rid of,
is the occasional hatred of my chest.

I can't describe it in one word,
it's always like I've been stabbed by a knife.
And I'm too tired for this world,
For live this melancholy relationship with life.

I'm just an actor, I didn't write the script,
I'm everything you can imagine.
My body lying motionless inside the crypt,
but I can't crawl into my own skin.

None of us are the same,
The real me is an inexplicable vision.
Something that simply has no name,
An impenetrable prison.