Whenever I'm on my own just thinking about my life,
I always have bad dreams involving a gun or a knife,
My dreams always haunt me but in a strange kinda way,
Because I wish that they would really happen one day,
When I'm quite upset thinking about the past,
My future always appears to be coming so fast,
I want it to slow down, sometimes to stop.
I love the sun on my skin and the rain in my hands,
The sea, birds and the soft, golden sand,
The fields of green and crops of bright gold,
Watching shows, people being bold,
Time is running out for me,
So I'm being all that I can be.
