The Contents of My Head

This is the book I never read, These are the words I never said, This is the path I'll never tread, These are the dreams I'll dream instead, This is the joy that's seldom spread, These are the tears, The tears we shed, This is the fear, This is the dread, These are the contents of my head. And these are the years that we have spent, And this is what they represent, And this is how I feel, Do you know how I feel? 'Cause I don't think you know how I feel. I don't think you know what I feel. I don't think you know what I feel. You don't know what I feel.

-Annie Lennox, "Why"