Orijinal sözler
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I'm sitting here
Counting my thoughts
And seeing a pattern
That amounts to one
The sun retreats
The colours fade
The dark appears
But it's not late
I am an idiot
In matters of affection
I don't recall a time
I did succeed
Even though I can be
Hopeful and have no fear
I face reality
If I confess to how I really feel
Chemicals mix
To create a man
To create emotion
To set up my fall
I am convinced
I'm wired all wrong
To aim too high
To want what's not possible
