Every time, I hope that I just cant see
Coz my eyes is wide open towards something that can't be
Often you look at something not knowing what you see
Isn't it so grand unlocking abstract mysteries?
Every time, I hope that I'd rather not feel
Coz I feel what I see and it hurts so deeply
Often I feel so many things I can't free
Should I rather choose to feel uneasy?
Every time, I ask what's the purpose of being me
Coz I can't seem to be where I'd rather be
Often I don't even like the reflection in front of me
Didn't you ever wish to just flee?
Every time, I wonder about the commas in this journey
Coz a period seems nowhere, scattered endlessly
Often I run out of strength too tired to breathe
Can I just then decide to cease?
