I must be dead

Take my hand, show me the world

Show me the wonders and the bad

Tell me of the oak tree, of the grandma

Keep me warm, it is cold in here.

I can’t hear you, are you speaking?

Your heart is cold, mine is blowing

I want to know, who loves me not.

Just sit still, in meditation

You will hear if you listen.

It is whispering: I love you not

Block your ears and don’t listen

Open your heart, feel the fear

The voice of love is in here

He took my hand, showed the world

Of the wonders and of the bad

Grandma, the oak tree are all here.

I feel pain, it is my heart

It has shattered.

I can’t breath, I can’t hear

I can’t cry and can’t laugh either

I feel free, like the feather

I must be dead, I must be dead.