- cifra
What’s the point to try
And say these things inside?
They may not come true,
Might not turn out right.
I start to doubt myself,
I feel so much and then,
Words aren’t enough,
I keep it in.
We never talk about it,
We make our own way through.
We never talk about it,
We hide it all away.
We never talk about it,
It’s too much to say.
Secrets and letters
I’ve been saving up.
So many things
I never told you of.
Will you come on slow?
Say what you mean,
Will you tell the truth?
Let it all come clean.
We never talk about it,
We make our own way through.
We never talk about it,
We make our own way through.
We never talk about it,
Baby, I love you.
