discontentYou asked me where we were going
I said Barcelona
You said that's not what I meant
Things wouldn't be so bad if I had a sense of timing.
I don't mind, most of the time, but you push me so far inside.
One of these days I'll get things right.
I'll have the right words to say at the right moment.
I won't be hiding behind excuses and fear.
One of these days.
It's 6 am. I'll sleep soundly
