What do I want?
The question asked in order
to save my life?
Or take it?
I don't want money.
I don't want cars.
I especially don't want these scars.
I don't want pain,
but I don't want joy.
I don't want the way you are.
Maybe my life depends on the moment.
The moment I decide,
what i want,
or why i cry.
The memory of you,
still burned in my head.
Hurts my soul,
hurts my mind.
The pain I hide,
the pain I show,
what's the difference?
Who would know?
So in my head,
my thoughts connect, saying,
I don't want money,
I don't want cars.
I especially don't want these scars.
I don't want pain,
but maybe I want joy.
And I really, really want the way you are.