I adjust, and adjust and adjust once more... because I can and because I grow when people around me is satisfied or not uncomfortable at all, like if that would only depend on me and would also cover for the burying of what I want or need. Me in a second or third place, always.
Add some lying expressions, and a smile that's suppose to make them believe I'm just fine, and you'll find my current status so regular in time.
I adjust, and adjust, and then keep on adjusting.
And even when to all that adjustment I add all the anger of this frustation aware of the non-adjusting of others, I don't stop.
Overwhelming as they are
Breeding hope by counting stars
Merge the bitterness the pain
Which I'm sure
You can explain again
One gets hurt when she feels small
( And she's longing for some peace )
Beeing the center of it all
( Slow attack but fast release )
Hear the difference in vain
Out of tune but just not quite the same
Overwhelming as they are
( With their mistifying glow )
Breeding hope by counting stars
( As they hunger for the show )
Hear the difference in vain
Out of tune but just not quite the same
Lyrics byHooverphonic
Breeding hope by counting stars
Merge the bitterness the pain
Which I'm sure
You can explain again
One gets hurt when she feels small
( And she's longing for some peace )
Beeing the center of it all
( Slow attack but fast release )
Hear the difference in vain
Out of tune but just not quite the same
Overwhelming as they are
( With their mistifying glow )
Breeding hope by counting stars
( As they hunger for the show )
Hear the difference in vain
Out of tune but just not quite the same
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