| Now tell me something
|
| Is there a point to this?
|
| Or are we living for the feeling
|
| When we look back
|
| On what we did and reminisce?
|
| 'Cause I’ve looked within and I’ve read
|
| But instead I keep focusing
|
| On just how thin I can get
|
| Now I’m looking for something else
|
| I found myself: I’m someone else
|
| I keep looking for something
|
| Even though I know that it’s not there
|
| (Maybe you’re the reason)
|
| Every time I try to figure it out
|
| You’re the only thing I can think about
|
| (Maybe you’re the reason)
|
| And I think I’m dying
|
| 'Cause this can’t be living
|
| Should I be searching for
|
| Some kind of meaning?
|
| Apathy’s a funny feeling
|
| I turned my gaze to the ceiling
|
| Thanked a God I don’t believe in
|
| For the scene outside
|
| I tried my best at sleeping but
|
| My dreams were unappealing
|
| So I searched for people in the landscape
|
| Passers by
|
| I keep looking for something
|
| Even though I know that it’s not there
|
| (Maybe you’re the reason)
|
| Every time I try to figure it out
|
| You’re the only thing I can think about
|
| (Maybe you’re the reason)
|
| I keep looking for something
|
| Even though I know that it’s not there
|
| (Maybe you’re the reason)
|
| Every time I try to figure it out
|
| You’re the only thing I can think about
|
| (Maybe you’re the reason) |