Where to begin to tell you?
Let’s just say I love you;
Wonder where it came from?
Desperate was I to be loved and cared,
Forgot how beautiful you are;
I walked through the road of thorns,
While I already had the rose;
Trying to tell the stories unheard,
I lost the song I loved;
The world is full of thrill and mystery,
But I was lost in entrenching misery;
Somewhere I hid myself to the fear of judgements,
Hiding nonetheless to what ends;
Enough of the treasure that’s bygone,
Lemme embrace you like a funky neon;
Be the badass you were, again,
Don’t let yourself to contain;
The world is just pulp fiction,
In which you are the strange attraction.