He knows death He knows death to the bone A shallow man A shallow man in the shroud of meaningless pain The sunrise of life The sunrise of life Reflecting in dew fades away until it dies in bottomless eyes Old orchards of soul Still bloom a bit Unspoken words return an echo of pure silence He wears a coat A coat of men’s sins He wears shoes of all the men’s grief and lies and tortures of beliefs
Like an outcast rambling so restlessly A sharp blade kisses so endlessly
These deep woods are drowning in vanity of limbs and thoughts of lips and sighs Drink pure silence standing next to the deep woods In these woods winds tear apart some withering leaves so similar to us