| This life of ours |
| . |
| This life of ours a wonder it is, |
| we live and to say yeah we live, |
| but when you think of it, |
| it's a trap, a deep pit. |
| Who are we, who knows, |
| and who lives, who knows. |
| Do I live? no I don't, |
| will I die? no I won't. |
| They say that they die, |
| yeah people living do die, |
| But for whom grave's the bed, |
| and in scent and color blood's the only red, |
| holds no sorrow the idea of death, |
| as for them life is the threat. |
| Live this life trapped in this body mass, |
| and wait and wait for endless moments to pass. |
| Bound by these skies and held onto this earth, |
| I live every moment to regret my birth. |
| Yeah regret I do and regrets I have, |
| for of my own self I am a slave. |
| These bars of conscience, these chains of guilt, |
| they won't let me play, they won't let me quit. |
| So stand in the field I do, |
| and watch the game I do, |
| I watch and watch and close my eyes, |
| the sight remains I hear more cries. |
| My eyes are closed but still I can see, |
| these eyes aren't mine but they belong to me. |
| I want them shut, I don't want to see, |
| I want only myself and only me. |
| No more shadows, no more images, |
| inside myself I do not want strangers. |
| But then these strangers are not intruders, |
| all these aliens are my own beings. |
| My own being I run from, |
| from my own shelter I ask for freedom. |
| Freedom I need, freedom I yearn, |
| freedom to end this life, |
| to live which I do not want to learn. |