You scream, “who am I to ask you such questions”?
“who am I to ask you why”?
Hearing answers that are so unfulfilling
Like dreaming while another sunset go by.
Words seem to lose their true meaning
Tumbling around in a storm
How did this life become so complicated?
With a sky so tainted and torn.
I have searched myself for an answer
Having questioned each move that I’ve made
There have been times when I was less truthful
And times when I was afraid…
But I have always tried to be honest
And questioned my own motives too
My life has always been an open book
That’s why I write this one for you.