I am a writer
not a singer
I've been writing my whole life
shy and ashamed
hiding from myself
'Cause I'm, I mean, I used to think
I was not enough
not enough for me
more than enough for everyone else
and nothing was left of me only for me
I am back, I mean, I am here
since I've never stopped writing
and never actually have sang
and I don't know really why
I am no longer ashamed or shy
I'm finally ready to be
I mean, to feel enough
Feel enough
Of me
For me
It's so uncertain that every step Has a purpose, a direction It's not easy to believe in chance Everything needs an explanation Formulas, methods, and results Our senses, so limited I don't like to be
Your love was unique and melancholic Why did you want too much? You went around thinking quietly That you couldn't give in You stopped following your path Tried to find it in other faces You couldn't
They say I shouldn't talk about love That I should never surrender to a passion But now it's too late, so late, I met you I'm not afraid, nor do I care, and I need to say… That I only think of YOU (li