{I try
To understand my real life,
And what will happen when I die...
I think
It's just a cheap trick.
I find
A sense in every turn of life;
I know this spring won't make me die,
I know
Snow will be no more.}
For everything
Is sold for chink
I have to pay my bills, but have no will to pay.
For we are real,
I get new skills
And soon I'll be the last of those who tries to pray.
[Why should the weather be so bad?
Why should the hammer knock my head?]
When lying down
In bed for one
I can't imagine how I lived alone at all.
I need your being
Near, here with me;
My love won't be erased by this spring's downfall.
[Why should the rain be cold and wet?
Why should the hammer knock my head?]