A weak attempt of make-believe
Is all she manages to achieve,
When she draws a breath and counts to ten,
But as she exhales it's gone again.
And she feels like a crazy fool
When she goes lalala and longs to be.
But it helps it makes her float away,
To another place where she can stay.
And it's the same part, same game,
Same procedure as every day
And she's cold, so cold.
 /Elin Sigvardsson - A person called she