Most of the times I ask "whys"
Most of the times, no replies.
Most of the times I wonder
And most of the times, I am a dreamer.
Sometimes I think life is too unfair
Sometimes I want to get out from there
Sometimes I have many reasons to live
But sometimes I have many reasons to leave.
There are times I pick myself from nowhere
There are times I find myself crazier
There are times I want to hide
There are times I died.
Either most of the times or sometimes
No one can really hear the chimes
Except myself, me and I
Till the time I run dry.
