Perspective
Why can't I feel it
The warmth is clear
Yet my skin is ice cold
My mouth doesn't open
Alive but unaware
I'm pushing them away
Without moving an inch
Painting pictures
Writing scripts
They don't see what I see
As I sit and wait
The world will carry on
For my voice is lost
The warmth is clear
Yet my skin is ice cold
My mouth doesn't open
Alive but unaware
I'm pushing them away
Without moving an inch
Painting pictures
Writing scripts
They don't see what I see
As I sit and wait
The world will carry on
For my voice is lost