Caught inside this stream of thought
Wander where its coming from, but I don't know
Words put down on the page; they feel like someone else
But I can't tell...
Is my body made for me?
Or am i just a shell?
And if my body was made for me, then could i see me for me?
Two people inside one brain
Have I lost all sense or claim, but I can't help
Feeling lost in my own skin
Wandering when home will come again
But I can't find...
Is my body made for me?
Or am i just a shell?
And if my body was made for me, then could i see me for me?