That uncertain feeling, makes you see a stranger,
You may see somebody, you feel a sense of doom.
Through sixth sense you know, you sense it again,
Somehow you've been made jackass once again.

A never-ceasing seeing, I hear all that giggling,
You may think it's laughing, won't you just get a clue?
What happens at night; I know all their schemes,
Echoes of rude laughter will still haunt my dreams.

Why do they do it? Fun to really try.
Those are their reasons. I think that's just tripe.

That uncertain feeling, of which I want to 'pose.
When I hear those voices calling me to my doom.
I tried soaring off and now I have flown,
So now all through my life my dreams aren't intoned.

Now I have found peace, I won't let it go.
Now I have found peace, I won't let it go.