Description
Under the light of soft chords hides a quiet fatigue - the kind that is not usually spoken about aloud. On the outside, there is a smile, a familiar rhythm, “everything is fine,” but on the inside, there is a vicious circle of thoughts, an endless “why.” The music sounds like a diary written in invisible ink: the words are not shouted, but exhaled, as if to oneself. And the further it goes, the clearer it becomes: this is not about defeat, but about that fragile place where you can finally stop pretending to be strong and allow yourself to be real.
Producer: Kevin Zaremba
Producer: Gigi Lopez
Producer: Achtabahn
Composer: Kevin Zaremba
Composer: Matthias Kurpiers
Composer: Gigi Lopez
Composer: Ismail Jandan
Lyricist: Kevin Zaremba
Lyricist: Matthias Kurpiers
Lyricist: Gigi Lopez
Lyricist: Ismail Jandan
Lyrics and translation
Original
Guess I look happy, happy all the time.
But you don't see me, see me when I cry. I can find an open door, when I try, it breaks me more.
Should I quit and should I go? Should I leave this all behind? Same things happen all the time.
Can't get out of my mind. Doing things I shouldn't do.
If you ask me, I have no clue. Guess I look happy, happy all the time.
But you don't see me, see me when I cry.
'Cause I'm a master, master of pretending, lately never-ending.
When does this all make any sense to me? God, I know You can set me free.
Please open a door and again restore this broken piece of me.
A buried treasure chest that was made for more.
There is purpose behind closed doors. A buried treasure chest that was made for more.
There is purpose behind closed doors. Am I the one who is insane for not feeling like the same? All
I want is to be heard in a world that's full of hurt.
Waking up searching for a sign. Yes, I fall but I still climb.
Are You telling me to teach just 'cause the dream is far to reach?
Take this fear and take that doubt, throw 'em away before I drown.
Before I drown.
Guess I look happy, happy all the time.
But you don't see me, see me when I cry.
'Cause I'm a master, master of pretending, lately never-ending.
When does this all make any sense to me? God, I know You can set me free.
Please open a door and again restore this broken piece of me.
A buried treasure chest that was made for more.
There is purpose behind closed doors. A buried treasure chest that was made for more.
There is purpose behind closed doors. When does this all make any sense to me?
God, I know You can set me free.
Please open a door and again restore this broken piece of me.