Nights,
days,
quiet moments
don't exist
There's only a burden
that has a weight
which is getting too heavy
Under the death hill I'm digging
the sun, the moon, silence
In the circle of life
inexplicable intensity,
hope, desire
Maniamaniamaniamaniamaniamania
maniamaniamaniamaniamaniamania
maniamaniamaniamaniamaniamania
mania
Paths
which I could walk
are too many
I can't remember
where I'm coming from,
where I'm going
And sometimes inside my head
something snaps and I remember
the rowhouse,
the wife, the dog, and Saturday evenings!