I'm feeling restless, but I don't know why.
Feels like time is standing still. So
many people 'n' I'm feeling shy. I would
with pleasure pass away. No one can
complain. I don't care it is a
Saturday. I'll spend rest of day at
home. WonÕt go home 'n' spoil another
day, this is my chance to be not me.
I gotta feeling that I'm breaking 'n'
my hands are shaking. My heart is
bumping 'n' I'm trying to relax, or
something. (Feeling low / waisting my
time.) I feel like stone, when someone
talks to me. Can't get a word out of my
mouth. It is a bad habbit, it will
allways be. I would with pleasure pass
away. Slipping in corners, like I'd made
something which has make me feel so
small. I know I haven't got that
dignity. This is my chance to be not me.
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