In a room suffused with light I spend my hours waiting Waiting for the nightfall And I wonder if my life Is blissful or appalling If silence is my laughter I hone my heart down to the bare bones Down to the pieces that are needed to survive And spend my life cruising on my own As I don’t care about the whereabouts of love The whereabouts of love Is reclusiveness a curse Or could it be a blessing? A wall against disorder? While it shields me from the rain It causes me to dry out And counteracts my blooming I hone my heart down to the bare bones Down to the pieces that are needed to survive And spend my life cruising on my own As I don’t care about the whereabouts of love The whereabouts of love