I think about God,
and more I think about Him,
I know him less.

I sold my intimacy
for sake of publicity,
*** sells in democracy,
Lord Dollar, please set me free!

I see now - hipocrisy
takes over things I believed.

I'm naked, they look at me,
they buy me, they make me free,
but Freedom is what I seek.

Oh, Freedom is all I need
in times of Great Slavery,
when each day's a robbery.
I'm poorer than younger me,
I'm richer than older me.

I sold my intimacy
for sake of modernity
and shameless society
without any dignity.

My body's all they can see,
my body is all they need
to make them happy and free,

but, they, in reality
unhappy are, slaved for keeps,
so am I, and I can see
mistakes I've done, idiot me,
for sake of publicity,
I worship idiocracy,
****-riding pussocracy,
like war with Intimacy.

Half-naked girls in the street
and women ****** on the screen
by dumb masculinity.
Life-saving *******,
no, *******, you can't save me.

Where is my intimacy?
I've sold it, oh stupid me,
for sake of publicity,
*** sells in democracy.

This is the road I used to walk to school,
here's a shop, where I used to buy sweets,
and in this house, here, lived a girl I secretly loved.

This is my favourite cherry tree,
this is my house, my home,
and this is my mum, my dad,
my brother and my sister, happy times.  

I'm not in the picture, no, I'm not.
Why? Let's say because I... I was taking this shot.

When
meat meets
meat, magic is
born.

That's
how this world
carries us on.

Oh, Princess,
I missed you like crazy,
dying of Winter cold,
graving.
I turned into shadow.

With your lips made of light
kiss me back to life,
save me.

How beautiful you are,
how bright green are your eyes,
and how sparkling are diamonds
in your tiara.
And your floral dress again
drives me
crazy.

Turn me
into cherry blossom tree.
Skylark me, robin me into the song,
iris me, moisten my stalk.
Breastfeed me day and night,
like a new born baby -
I am one.

Spring me, May me
one more time. Make me
young and free.

The sun is out, the sky is blue,
but Summer, Summer, oh, where are you?

Girls are wearing light dresses, they are see-through,
in a busy gardens flowers shine and bloom,
but Summer, Summer, oh, where are you?

Elderly men are sitting in the park,
secretly watching women walking by,
drinking their coffees, so ready to die.

Children are enjoying sunshine,
jumping and dancing in the square,
but Summer, Summer, oh where are you,
where?

People who shout deserve no sympathy,
shouting is stupid, callous, rude, and cheap.
Nothing good can come out of it, but bad,
it made those shouted ones scared, frightened, stressed.
Honestly, shouting's the worst thing, I guess.

Those husbands yelling on their caring wives,
they don't deserve to be loved, should be banned
from getting married, making women cry.
Or fathers shouting on their kids. Oh no,
they don't deserve to see them, oh they don't!

Not only them, but anyone with voice
raised to the level of barbaric noise,
should have their shouty mouths zipped, forcefully,
if they don't want to calm down, quiet be.
It is a matter of human dignity.

People who shout should go to prison, yes,
punished for making other's lives a mess.
Look at dictators, they shout to terrorize
their own people, they are never nice,
most of them are just heartless psychopaths.

I don't hate anyone, for it's not fair,
but people clamouring - I can't stand them.
Shouting to do is a very shallow thing,
sign of pure lack of common decency,
barbaric, rude, inhuman, callous, cheap.

If you do shout, please keep away from me,
and I will keep away from you, I will,
for life's too short to live under the thumb
of shouting idiots, monsters, psychopaths,
barbaric, rude, inhuman, callous brats.