Something itches me really,
and it stings rather slowly.
May be its the warmer climate,
may be I'm a smarter primape,
may be it's the beer I'm drinking,
Or may be I've start overthinking.
may be it's the world I live in,
or may be I've let the fear sink in.
I might be feeling lonely,
or might be loving you solely.
And now as I walk on this lonely road,
that goes on endlessly.
I still find you besides me,
waiting for my stare hopelessly.
being ignorant I couldn't admit,
that I loved you .
and those lonely string hurt me,
when I pluck it.
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