Lost are yours, the days of spring.
Your sorrow let me in.
I will curse this world
So that it keeps on turning.
Send a flaming letter of hate,
To burn out your eyes.
So you know, this is your fate,
While the world keeps on turning.
You take the liquid and drink,
The poison which cures you.
To nothingness, where you don’t have to think.
To forget everything that you once knew.
Leaving and escaping your imprisoned hell,
The body: to you, the holding cell.
And this world will keep on turning.
The passions and vices strong and burning.
While we all go on, go on learning.
You have lost yourself and your yearning.
So leave this land to those who want to be here,
Living, and caring, passionately embracing without fear.