I'm made of gothic poetry and psychodalic atmosphere
Reflected broken innosence
And fragileness and fear.

I'm made of funky nail polish, absinthe and tea
And surrealistic paintings
And things I want to be

Creation coming out of a box inside my head
Where freedom surrenders me
And things are being said

I embrace the windy moments, and listen to the silent rain
But thoughts of sunny weather
Help me overcome my pain

The sunlight that comes after the flood, the feelings you
cannot name
And all that hides under my skin
Is what makes me the way I am