Why should I?

Why should I, why should I change?

Am I a season or a colour,

That changes over time?

Looking left and right, I wonder why so rage,

That beautiful pheasant is locked in a cage,

What's her fault, she wants to fly,

It tears me into tears, am I a sage?

Why should I, why should I change?

Am I a season or a colour,

That changes over time?

 

Moving ahead, looking down, in rain,

An old man without food, is suffering to pain,

No food to eat, in speeding age,

I give him some money, a jacket to wear.

Why should I, why should I change?

Am I a season or a shade,

That changes over time?

 

I feel the tickling of ecstatic cold winds,

I feel the warmth of being in that place.

Those experiences now tend to stay over time,

Producing more mirth, in a worldly rat race.

Why should I, why should I change?

Am I a season or an expression,

That changes over time?

 

Walking down the lane, watching people passing by,

Walking the same footsteps every single day.

Wondering if they ever took a left,

Or a right, taking a new lane.

Perhaps I notice so much,

But there's no change.

Why should I, why should I change?

Am I a season or an emotion,

That changes over time?

 

Just the way no one does, so why should I change?