At the age of sixteen,
I longed so much
for a love that never happened.
I always searched for it.
All of my friends
found themselves
in the same situation.
And then I saw
how they changed
their ways of living.
Each found a love—
each of them
smiling, very happy—
but not me.
A loneliness
increasingly sad
and darker
came over me.
And, at that age,
they all asked why—
so I always said:
I was not born to love.
No one was born for me.
I stayed alone,
just a crazy dreamer.
I was not born to love.
No one was born for me.
My dreams never
became a reality.
I always looked for it,
but I could never
find that love—
I always hoped for it.
And all the while I waited,
that love never came.
Today, my loneliness
increasingly sad
and darker than you can see—
today, at this age,
my friends still ask me
and it is very sad to answer:
I was not born to love.
No one was born for me.
I stayed alone,
just a crazy dreamer.
I was not born to love.
No one was born for me.
My dreams never
became a reality.
I was not born to love.
No one was born for me.
My dreams never
became a reality.
I was not born to love.