Delirium is sweet as honey
You are the victim of money
You paint your life on a paper
Yet everything becomes vapor
Heading on the road of youth
Is there a solution what soothes
Throught the fingers time melts
You are on your way, you knelt
The picture of Dali in your mind
The secret fortune, you must find
Hundred butterfiles are so brittle
Fortune is never firm, it is hidden
The flames are already engulfing
Now you must only confront it.