My hair falls off, my jaw is loose, and the nuance rustles of stone.
My heart is damaged, my stomach is full, it itches so badly in my leg.
I feel the pain before I walk, and the pain is real.
My walk is heavy, my pain is too fine, my sin is too dark as a road.
My beloved brother, she looks like him, she rarely shows herself to me.
No, you hardly hear what you see, and yesterday is tomorrow.
Where the future is tormented by coldness and fear, we know that in the end it's all about the spirit.
One day I will take my sword and my sword, and shoot myself down in my grave.
Where the future is tormented by coldness and fear, we know that in the end it's all about the spirit.
But don't care anymore.