Walking one day in the park it came like winter came In their hands there were so many things they wished to do Fortune! Fortune! Let them go while ride a rocking horse Go to hell! Cred a man while crept weeping a way And she died and hen force He'll be know as a Fortune's love He could be a poor pilgrim walking all over him He looks around and calls "The Fates" rejoicing in his faith And he yells over his pain: "I went to learn and see How is necessary in me to grow in beauty things" Then he shall be one of those who makes things beautiful They are healthy mindless oh! So gord but I'm not Even under the ground I could hear this town, this "force-disease" This dionyssian force with its rebel roar comes to me I'll be a perfect man oh! oh! Tell me when Oh! this pain! this pain again! I'll be a perfect man oh! oh! Tell me when Oh! This joy this joy again! This joy, this joy lararara This joy lararara