He longs for the light of spring
In the dazing light, floating on pleasure
Tyranny never ceases inside me
And when you look aside you would finally realize
Your eyes remind me of eyes of a dead fish
Time goes and burns out before you notice
Who could decide that I should stop?
And don't want for you to find the truth?
A blind and active comrade must be more harm than good
Light reflected from blind eyes is not the true bright light
He knows the being of light only as a matter of fact
He wouldn't know it until he is dead
Your eyes remind me of eyes of a dead fish
Time goes and burns out before you notice
Who could decide that I should stop?
And don't want for you to know yourself?
