It’s not enough to make believe
And after all is really frustrating
Not feeling the way I do
But here we go:
I never felt no trace of pity when she died
No hate no nothing for this sad news from a stranger

All I remember is that I was unemployed
Not able to find a **** job for a long time
So she offered me a place to sleep
And the daily bred as a reward for my hand labor
Carried out all day long near his house

It was the kind of slavery of which
The most stupid animals can be horrified

But I did it
Yes sir
I did it out of pity for her solitude sickness and despair
After a while I even hated her hobby to collect nothing but things
This car this house this garden of paranoid miracles

All sold in loss after her burial to some gipsy lover
Who was actually greedier than she ever dreamed

I also remember she cursed me when I left her place
”You *******” she said
”You will never be able to find a home of your own”
”You may rot in hell working for strangers!”

”It’s ok” I said
”You never felt anything more delusional of me”
”But if strangers would feel that way” I said
”At least they will pay me big time for my trouble”

So I was far away in the land of Nowhere when she died
And I knew that for me she was gone long time before
When I didn’t felt no pity no hate no trace of any sadness

When I decided to leave the house of my sister
Which was not my home anymore
When I felt my real sister was gone far away
And anywhere else in the world