Sadness.
Everywhere I go, freedom escapes me.
And that hurts,
like a thousand paper cuts on the knuckles of the thumb.
When will the pain end?
When will enough be enough?
Sadness.
Everywhere I go, freedom escapes me.
And that hurts,
like a thousand paper cuts on the knuckles of the thumb.
When will the pain end?
When will enough be enough?
Ebony Johanna 