The very one thought makes me sick to the stomach,
I am half-way there but the rest seems too hard,
So much is resting on my shoulders,
But no one else knows the true ache within me,
The one where i must do everything,
And nothing can go wrong,
nothing.
All my friends are over there, but i am stuck here,
No one bothers to see me as i don't tell them my secrets,
So they stay in their huddles, with me on the outside,
It's not my fault i stay locked up,
And when they ask what's wrong,
I just say nothing,
nothing.
But there is no such thing as nothing,
nothing is always something,
And that is what gets me through, through the
Nothing.
