Lost the will to live Death is the only thing that could extricate me From this curse of sorrow So I take a rope and roam from life to death Now I've arrived at this old dark masonry In a cold wooden crate I lie Between all these candles which are alight Just mine is extinct Grow, cold, dead There's no bottom I'm falling deeper and deeper into the depths of decease Submerged in a sea of tears The tears of those who mourn about the loss In the mousey fog of depression Once I kneeled and shoveled the moist soil Now I lay down beside your grave And finally the longing is satisfied