Tilbake Tilbake: Depresjon


I think about it every day

Think about the words I too late will say
Sometimes I just sit here, and think about why,
Why do I live, and shortly after begin to cry

Every day I think about it,
Puzzling it together, bit by bit
A bit of that, and a bit of this
Me, I conclude, nobody will miss

Lonesome I am, in my own little zone
But among countless people I still feel alone
I sit by myself, feeling all bad,
Thinking I have a nice life makes me more sad

My signs are so clear,
Yet nobody sees
All the things that are happening
And that the girl next door shortly leaves

Daily I say; why to exist?
Look at myself and weep
With a knife in my hand I look at my wrist
Not able to stand on my feet.

I try all the time, appear all immortal
But nobody understands that I’m not normal
A mouth can smile, white and wide,
But no one will see the pain inside.

This is the day, I say, finally
With a last glance I look up in the sky,
And whisper the words quietly
Farewell to you all
and goodbye.

Til forsiden