Once it's life's fortunate, isn't this so The unreflected feeling Of a shortened, flattened soul The life that cuts the cold now is in your past In our memories, we don't have much to say We don't have much to say We don't have much
Follow anybody, is that what you do? Maybe it transfits to don something else to do Now we know what we'll be in the past Another story Another life that's left Another life that's left