I’m riding while hiding
It’s so hard for oneself,
When oneself wants to not be seen
At the same time we want to be seen.
How could it be?
Cliché as can be
But this is me
Is it crime to be me?
Why do you keep punishing me?
Is this a blessing in disguise?
When I ask for answers from the skies, I get no answers
The damned skies won’t talk, regardless of my high
But today my non-high tells me to accept this,
this is what makes me.