| Alone in the far corner of a world of dreams
|
| I listen to the plaintive whisper of sweet memories
|
| They’re clipped with time, a sedate, soothing rhyme
|
| Slowly cries the litany of mine
|
| Over this landscape of loose translation
|
| My trembling gathers a tacit rejection
|
| In seclusion I dwell in deep desolation
|
| In desperate secrecy, my pain
|
| I live to steal the night again
|
| The day has come too soon
|
| Sobbing, the stranger’s clutch is due
|
| So little time to learn so much
|
| No other night could bring such a passionate touch
|
| Over this landscape of loose translation
|
| My trembling gathers a tacit rejection
|
| In seclusion I dwell in deep desolation
|
| In desperate secrecy, my pain
|
| I live to steal the night again
|
| Finally all the destructive words were said
|
| Nothing left only to keep what is sacred
|
| The memories kept again for all remaining time
|
| But now, there’s a future in this fucking crime
|
| Over this landscape of loose translation
|
| My trembling gathers a tacit rejection
|
| In seclusion I dwell in deep desolation
|
| In desperate secrecy, my pain
|
| I live to steal the night again |