| The craving for higher perfection
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| seduces the obsessed
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| Into estrangement of body and soul
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| Their cold glance wanders over burial mounds!
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| No stone remains unturned
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| No piece of earth unexplored
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| No live stays sacrosanct — No live stays sacrosanct
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| Nothing that couldn’t be changed
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| At his beginning he doesn’t foresee
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| that his time will exceed
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| At his end he will understand
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| the only thing that counts is his own agony
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| What man begins: before his eyes it fades away
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| He’d like to be a perfect man and executor
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| But what remains is escape…
|
| But what remains is escape…
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| All the beauty of the world, the world he lives in
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| means nothing compared to his creation
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| He applies his own rules to everyone
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| who doesn’t step aside, has to fall
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| No stone remains unturned
|
| No piece of earth unexplored
|
| No live stays sacrosanct — No live stays sacrosanct
|
| Nothing that couldn’t be changed
|
| The future of his children, a light-hearted game
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| played under the pretence of progress
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| CARELESSNESS AS THE RESULT OF LOSS OF FEELINGS
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| CARELESS HE STRIDES TOWARDS DESTRUCTION
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| What man begins: before his eyes it fades away
|
| He’d like to be a perfect man and executor
|
| But what remains is escape…
|
| But what remains is escape… |