How beautiful it stands It ceases to recollect A past of paint and old windows The stairs the screams And the laughs The hall has a frightening smell The building accepts Homes and names Some are young Some are old The end of choice The last of hope Shades of bodies without souls Confess that something went wrong It must be an error of a serious kind A touching dream to which we all are And we searched the perfect life Women, men old and young All know they are going to die Not yet, perhaps not here, but in the end And somewhere like this That is what it all means The Building accepts All of us all of us