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Deal with the two mysteries

Of creation: life and death

I wait for a new life to come,

I wait to smell the breath.

"The world to me's a secret,

Which I desire to divine."

Something is at work in my soul,

Which I cannot assign.

And so my heart doesn't beat for you no more,

It doesn't beat for you no more,

It doesn't beat for you no more.

And all it does is feeling sore.

It doesn't beat for you no more,

It doesn't beat for you no more,

It doesn't beat for you no more.

And all it does is feeling sore.

Mortality's no secret,

For the dream is long long gone.

Myself is a place where no one

Wants to stay for long.

And so my heart doesn't beat for you no more,

It doesn't beat for you no more,

It doesn't beat for you no more.

And all it does is feeling sore.

It doesn't beat for you no more,

It doesn't beat for you no more,

It doesn't beat for you no more.

And all it does is feeling sore.

The summer months passed in heart and soul

Never did fields bestow a more plentiful harvest

That withered so slow

He who believes his native town

To be the world, may rest assured.

But I learned the loss of hope and innocence

And both are not to be cured.

And so my heart doesn't beat for you no more,

It doesn't beat for you no more,

It doesn't beat for you no more.

And all it does is feeling sore.

It doesn't beat for you no more,

It doesn't beat for you no more,

It doesn't beat for you no more.

And all it does is feeling sore.