What's in my wallet? What's on my feet? The brand of my jacket, the foods that I eat. My eyes are here; why do you stare at my bracelets? You look at my diamonds, but never at my demons. Look into my eyes and feel what I feel. Let's permit the day to pass, ignoring the bills. Can we talk, my friend? Not to fool around and have a beer. I have some broken lines I wish to mend; Your wounds would be nice to hear. You know what? Never mind. You'd probably misjudge my turbulent tides. You're just into what you see and touch. This is invisible, untouchable, a force that makes the heart clutch. We're always together, but I'm alone.
You care about some new brands; what about my zone? I sound too emotional, don't I? My demons and angels are warring inside. I'm seeking that rare resource, But I don't know the right course. You can't tell the occasional help, do you? One that can hold you through; One that can guide you in hard times; One that can stand by your side. I don't hear about it mostly, but here's your answer. It's called "friends"; they're tiny in number. A friend has become scarce. Everyone is cold like polar bears. It's tough to carry the load on your own; If somebody is there, the dusks seem like dawns. If the heart was a king, there are way too many pawns.
Trying to knock those down will make me look too serious— No one wants to have a real conversation, I guess. I would be accused of snooping in other's business. If they don't call me serious, they would call me cynical. They wouldn't call me problematic; oh, I almost forgot sensitive. Let me remind you, fellas: sentimentality's in your blood. You care about what others think, despite it being absurd. No dress is beautiful until society views it so. Your skills are worthless; people are needed to make them glow. Pains and skills resemble, you know; In fear of humiliation, you're afraid to show. But if you have a friend. It. I wish for the resource to rain from the sky. I'd run for no shelter; I'd soak to never dry. It'd be warm; it'd be vulnerable. The drops don't judge; I'd be acceptable. The dorsum slow when I tell my story. The drops warm my soul; there'd be no shame in my misery. My sins are welcome; acceptance washes it all. A friend stays when it's the time of your fall. FFairdays are lovely, but they help in hiding real personality. It's the terrible weather that reveals who's really with me. Though, I don't want to moan about the downs. There are these people whom I owe millions of crowns. Thank you, and I wish you the best. You held me down when I faced some tests. But still, you guys are feeling afar. I'm right. I'm fine; I right here hell behind bars.
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