I passed the door without saying anything, without anyone to hold me back, the ship is going to sink. Tomorrow the factory will tighten the screws, and despite my loyal office services, I'm fired. When we have our lives at stake, we run after, from worse to worse, to tell each other if I'm dead. But how many years have passed after you, in the name of someone who holds you to the rope? How many? Count for nails to drive you crazy, burns to drive you crazy. I passed the door earlier, I pointed my name and my heart, and their bell rang. The factory on the edge of the precipice no longer smokes for its little sons, and then it forgets them. When we have our lives at stake, we run after, from worse to worse, to tell each other if I'm dead. But how many years have passed after you, in the name of someone who holds you to the rope? How many? Count for nails to drive you crazy, burns to drive you crazy. I have almost nothing more to tell you, I drank too much, but you can fill the ship, it's going to sink. Tomorrow, for some profit, the factory gives me my son as a sacrifice. It's going to sink. But how many years have passed after you, in the name of someone who holds you to the rope? How many? Count for nails to drive you crazy, burns to drive you crazy. To drive you crazy. To drive you crazy. But how many years have passed after you, in the name of someone who holds you to the rope? How many? Count for nails to drive you crazy, burns to drive you crazy. To drive you crazy. To drive you crazy.