I die everytime I think of you;
A man that is nothing special.
Not wise, not strong, not clever,
Nothing that I accomplished
Can take you back into my arms.
Only pain remains forever;
Even when life fades
You can still see its cold hands
Masked as death.
But in fact it’s something more and less;
For it’s a hand of dying hope
That weeps the last tears.
I’ll never see you again...