I've tasted sorrow...
Its salty, like the tears on my face.
Heavy, like the weight on my chest.
Cry a river then swim in my pain.
Nothing to lose, nothing to gain.
I would fly if my wings weren't clipped,
I would swim, but I'm caught
in a net; I struggle. In vain.
I would sing if I had a choice.
But I don't
And I won't
No. I never, ever will.
So why is it, that I think of you,
Still?
