You will be born each day
And you will die at least
three times the same day.
Your mind will be trialed
and your soul, much more.
Everything that you will remember
you will forget,
And everything that you will know,
will not matter anymore;
Not because you died already,
but because it never
mattered.

Your cry will die also
and will be born again.
Nothing new you will live,
your life will repeat itself – the same day:
you will die at least
three times.

And every night – the same thought,
You, as everyone else,
all together:
Is there any point in living
if we die at least
three times
each day?

When I'll cry my soul away
When I'll lose my life to pain
When I won't have minds to keep me sane
Will you guide me with your cane?

No. You will only tell me I didn't hurt enough.

I died today...
and it felt real.
Nothing's left now
all came clear.
Day by day
we try to show
we're still alive but
...we both know.
Both know how
the past is endless.
Both remember
life is reckless.
and dreams?..
They all go shades,
black to white, are
same old gates
that keep us far
from one another.
Since the fall
we can't recover.
Those dreams...we ****
them one by one.
The more we dream,
the more are gone.
Everyday the
same you dying.
Everyday we
fake our trying.
See, it's useless,
just give up;
it's overdue
what you called "luck".