Sometimes I ask myself, br What am I even thinking of? br Why do I do these things, br And act like this is love? br br Why do I let him touch me? br Why do I ask for more? br I know that I don't love him, br Yet I cant walk out that door. br br Why do I stay behind, br After all the hurt he's put me through? br When he tells me he loves me, br Why do I lie and say I love him too? br br Is it because I've become accustomed? br Or because I'm scared of being alone? br I thought that I could love you, br But I find my feelings haven't grown. br br So why then cant I just leave? br Just turn and walk away. br Why do I kiss him every morning, br And wish him a very good day? br br In reality I don't care, br If I have no love to give. br But I play along in this world, br It's the only way I know how to live. br br I stay because I'm used to it. br Nothing more, nothing less. br I know nothing else but this, br Even though I know its not the best. br br His arms are my shelter, br Yet I feel no warmth br His touch is reassuring, br Yet I feel no passion. br br He is my lover, br Yet not the love of my life. br He'll always be there, br Yet I'll never be his wife. br br Why I do what I do, br Maybe I'll never know... br All I know is I'm not happy, br But I just cant let go...