Illusions are trying to make things better.
Write my song till I feel good.
My confusion is flowing slowly away,
like a stranger.
Fighting for a place to live.
I try to see it in a different way.
Sitting down for the wurst crime,
that slowly awakes.
Give me a reason for life and me,
there's so much confusion.
All I am is what love makes me,
this is my pride.
Submitted by walter at Mon 10 Apr, 2006 9:57 am