Sometimes it feels like "I'm gonna tell the world!" instead of keeping things in a bottle, with its lid on, others can only guess what's inside such tainted glass. Cause it's so true, how can it not be? It's so true that when spilt out no colour of this world will be replaced in any case.
Yet still you keep it in the bottle for as long as you can, withholding the drops of cheers and tears and laughters and romances, despite the fact that they are more true than any award speeches or any colour of roses.