People are puppets, held together with string.
There´s a beautiful sadness that runs through him, as he asked me to pray to the god he doesn´t believe in.

Time and again boys are raised to be men: impatient they start, fearful at end.
But here was a man mourning tomorrow.
He drank, but finally drown in his sorrow.

He could not brace up his tension.
He looked in the wrong place for redemption.
Don´t look at me with those eyes; i tried to unheave the ties: turn back the time that drew him.
But he couldn´t be saved: a sadness runs through him, through him.

Time and again boys are raised to be men: impatient they start, fearful at end.
But here was a man mourning tomorrow, who drank, but finally drown in his sorrow

He could not brace up his tension.
He looked in the wrong place for redemption.
Don´t look at me with those eyes; i tried to unheave the ties; turn back the time that drew him.
But he couldn´t be saved: a sadness runs through him, through him.

Don´t look...Don´t look...Don´t...Don´t
Don´t look at me with those eyes; i tried to unheave the ties: turn back the time that drew him.
But he couldn´t be saved, no, he couldn´t be saved: sadness runs through him, sadness runs through him, sadness runs through him, sadness runs through him, sadness runs through him