I'm looking inside for
The particles of my past
Putting all together
 [bad word] a neat contrast

And now, in the middle
I have found what ever lasts
Blowing like spring air
Is the love which brings a blast

I feel my prior time
Like a pantomime
In which what is prime
 [bad word] again

Meanwhile your living
Is going on

Love I hate discovered
In the core of human frame
Where all is always changing
Love is every time the same
It's the force of past to
Give me the impulse win the game
At the end of my way
Love cleans all my harshest blames away

I feel my prior time
As if was a crime
In which I think I'm
Who feels and gives pain