So many doubts,
that I try to see through;
and when I finally do,
you change my doubts.
Relentless I was,
but for the wind and the trees;
when I tried to stop,
you stung me like wild bees.
I stood there in the rain,
as the trains passed by;
smoke went into my lungs,
as the fresh air passed by.
The sky stared at me,
as I wished the earth would hide me in;
not again an eye shall look into mine,
for an eternity called time.
I sold my soul to angels,
for a few more days to live;
how can I give it up,
for a heaven called hell?
Then you ask me,
the meaning of life,
sitting under a dead tree,
with the sky staring at you;
and I ask you why,
why can't you wish to hide into the ground,
sink into your own eyes,
and burn whatever you thus find.