My eyes are open, but I don't see anything out
I look inside, want to be within
Turn on the inner light, what will be there?
What penetrated me?
The longing, the longing
I'm like blind, who searches the ability to see
because he's not searching for just someone.
We'll see us
Some are asking how time goes by,
how time goes by, how time goes by.
I'm asking myself how time's create
how time's create, how time's create.
In which I live really long with a
huge longing.
Which comes and goes, comes and goes.
I miss the longing