Oh great father, oh grand king, why have you left, oh why have you fled.
The ideas founded so deep inside me have taken flight no longer to be seen.
The child inside me has grown up, risen up and now no longer wants to see, to believe.
Consider this me leaving you.
Helpless, we fall to our knees.
Gone, my faith has been ridden from the realisation of the hopelessness of this world.
Gone, nowhere to be seen. I've got a bone to pick with you.
The child inside me has grown up, risen up and now no longer wants to feel, never again will feel.
All has fallen apart; my expectations remain [bad word]  in filth.
And it’s the nothingness that’s got a grip on me, oh helplessness, when will you ever get the best of me.
As I look into the eyes of the abyss, I see nothing.
Is there still some time for the question of the great perhaps.
Thus spoke the son of man.