swallowing the meaningless to feed the inner-
not expecting to find our courage has withered?
(can you look at your soul, see how it's bittered
and say: come let us eat something good, indeed)

Along with your lingering smell,
the warmth in my heart has left me.
Long nights, wet ears and loud music,
fighting to forget the burning house.
Trying to get back on my feet,
using my elbows and knees.
But I can't be moved,
I'm a brokenhearted man..