| There was this empty shell
|
| And I called it my life
|
| Sometimes it felt like hell
|
| But it was easy to survive
|
| Time was like a drain
|
| That didn’t flush me down
|
| There was no room for pain
|
| And not one chance to drown
|
| I want to cut off all my ties
|
| I need to break through all the ice
|
| I want it to evaporate
|
| And cease to be a surrogate
|
| I want to raise a thunderstorm
|
| I want to bring down all the rain
|
| I want to be the flood that cleans
|
| I want to know what my life means
|
| I want to cut off all my ties
|
| I need to break through all the ice
|
| I want it to evaporate
|
| And cease to be a surrogate
|
| I want to find the strength I need
|
| To truly follow my own lead
|
| I want to find my destiny
|
| And know my own identity
|
| I got up every day
|
| To do as I was told
|
| I felt like a piece of clay
|
| For someone else to mold
|
| My suit fit me just fine
|
| And my shirt was always clean
|
| My thoughts they were never mine
|
| But there was no need to scream
|
| I looked left and right
|
| And they were all the same
|
| I lay awake at night
|
| And tried to recall my name
|
| I got up the next day
|
| And took a long last look
|
| There was no time to stay
|
| On the first page of this book
|
| I want to know who I am |