One's living on his own,
living inside himself.
Sometimes, he's sad and bitter,
sometimes he sings.
sometimes a door opens,
(and he) receives an acquaintance.
But,
for the most part,
one's locking himself in.
One's living on his own,
He lingers within himself.
Or in a crowded city,
or in some village,
sometimes the storm passes,
(leaving) his house smashed apart.
But,
for the most part,
one's a stranger to himself.
And you, and you
You're just in time
Without you the house is empty
And the night is cold
So I'm watching over you
As much as I can.
After all this, will I,
Will I find you tomorrow?
One's a stranger to himself,
living on his own.