So many depressives suffer in silence, without anyone knowing, their plight somehow invisible until they adopt the antics of madness which are impossible to ignore. Depression is such an uncharasmatic disease, so much the opposite of the lively vibrance that one associates with madness.
Why do you build me up (build me up) Buttercup, baby Just to let me down (let me down) and mess me around And then worst of all (worst of all) you never call, baby When you say you will (say you will) but I love you still
I want to go backpacking across Europe with 20 dollars to my name. And only carrying 2 pairs of clothes and a camera and a lot of film with me. And I'll take pictures of beautiful scenery and sad faces.