Boys have their own melody,
sweet and susceptible.
Leave them be,
their songs will be unheard.

Fathers who break their rhythm,
are the most spiteful of men.
They breed to inflict pain,
they sustain the cycle of odium.

Sons who can't play their songs,
only have shattered remains.
They shaped into melancholy,
The men who get the blues

In an dark atmosphere,
amongst alluring people,
she's there,
with luminous energy.

Veiled emotions,
let her be,
she'll only run away,
with fitful visions.

Divine being,
who owns neurotic sense,
don't let her frolic with you,
she can dance alone.