I'm feeling restless, but I don't know why.
     Feels like time is standing still.
     So many people 'n' I'm feeling shy.
     I would with pleasure pass away.
     No one can complain.
     I don't care it is a Saturday.
     I'll spend rest of day at home.
     WonÕt go home 'n' spoil another day,
     this is my chance to be not me.
     I gotta feeling that I'm breaking
     'n' my hands are shaking.
     My heart is bumping
     'n' I'm trying to relax, or something.
     (Feeling low / waisting my time.)
     I feel like stone, when someone talks to me.
     Can't get a word out of my mouth.
     It is a bad habbit, it will allways be.
     I would with pleasure pass away.
     Slipping in corners, like I'd made something
     which has make me feel so small.
     I know I haven't got that dignity.
     This is my chance to be not me.