Why?
It feels like à train has hit me more than twice, and as if i had lived my hole life.
And it seams to be no one left for me to have, and i'm supposed to think that's okey.
But why do i, when you ask me how i am, leave all that behind
And says: everything's fine
I don't think i'm worth anything, and way to many doesn't know my name
And i don't remember my dreams at all
Or why i started to fall down, so small
But why do i, when you ask me how i am, leave all that behind
And says: everything's fine
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