Look, the syllable beneath my tongue gets cold
And like a never taken path this path appeared
On my hands is blood, in my blood thousand poisons of you
Everything was swallowed down, these stones are (my) witnesses
The glass is broken, we are scattered to the four winds
I tore myself (and) realized
This is not love
I am lost, the voices inside me are gone
It was everything, in a blind desire it came to an end
Now in the yellow drawers my dashed prayers are like a flood
His song grows in long nights, I said here, love him