When shall this silent of sense be cast, this dust of thoughts be laid at last,
When the man of flesh and soul be slain, and the man of bones remain
When this heart starts talk, these lungs painfully shout, asking me what is this humming brain think about,
When we're proud and in power, hopping not for a lifetime.. just for togetherness even for little hour, we will tenderly seed the birth.. maybe not forever but at least it should last as long as earth.
When i send my angels into the west, to know where, when and even how my soul can't get rest
When I'll lie down in that cold... bed of dust; do you can bring our eternal seed to light, only then both bear we must, for all the morning will be the same as night,
When we flesh and soul still strong, why shall we suffer as a slaves so long, and before the fire of our sense decay, why can't we just blow the dust and clean it away.
When inside this beating heart you live alone, why you slaughters me till the bones.