There is so much,
Which can hurt.
Why so that the the thing
Which hurts most,
Is no war or no pain;
But a feeling
Which drives me insane.
Plying along the way,
Alone all day,
I try not to care.
But the heart,
My heart, cant see,
cant hear,
What I want to say.
It just keeps on beating,
Keeps on repeating,
The song of lonelyness.
When somebody is alone,
Waiting for somebody all along.
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