I live in an exile, and time flies
Caught between people who are wise
Who rather talk than listen to me speak
I'm lonely in this place I used to seek
Desperate, troubled, disfigured by fear
What is it that holds me here?

Hope is all that's left for me
Hope that I will soon be free
One day I'll stand by me, and stop to hide
But somehow I want to remain a child
I'm meant to grow up one day
And go my very own way

Ambivalence is reflecting all I do
But do the other people notice that, too?
Or is it just me who keeps on observing me?
In a world of paranoia and hypocrisy
All I can do is asking questions
Can you give me any suggestions?

My mind is not so well exercised
Free from opinions about people's lives
It reels behind an insignificant wall
I'm bored, but curious after all
Always searching, and never satisfied
I wonder if I'll ever be alright