Fool

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.
Wont 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.