One day people lived who could see the sky.
On the abundant day, there were people who were not afraid of hell.
The bottom, which people will come down to face the new.
The days go by and rise by day.
Quarreling at the same time.
Day by day, the sky becomes darker and darker.
Parable of true people full of glory and joy.
Who are not known for greed, or for any imperfections.
People are full of conviction and people dressed in our human dying.
Red as heart, red as blood.
Is this the end of implementation?
Grey as a soot, grey as pepper...
Life is like that.
The name changes, tears change.
The colour changes, the lilacs change.
Gold shines above the golden sky,
Golden stars,
constellations,
Dressed in a golden thread.
Convinced, our face is removed from us.
Settled, braggart is buried and buried.
Our days, our hours.
They are so exhausting, we can not stand them, we can not see them.
One day, a day so far away.
The parable of the rightful people adorns us,
Whispering to us whispering to us about them,
About these lasting,
About those dear ones.
What is the city?
What is the news?
What is the name?
What is the devil?
Judging, we judge.
We sneer and sneer.
Wrapping, we wrap.
Killing, we love.
People do not know empathy.
People do not know happiness.
People know the satisfaction.
And blood at the satisfaction of doing so.