Explain me why all is always finished by cry
And empty souls don't fly
All [bad word] is like whispers of staining hearts in the misty sky
So I get used to kiss goodbye.
 [bad word]  Just one more breath, and I'm depressed
I suffocate in my melancholy
The grace of death let me digress
Then I regain my melancholy.

Biblical grace lets our souls fly away
When fatal bursts embrace
Tangled lace, rain washes of shame from my face
And shelters me in a lonely grave.