Are you ready, to the story without the end?
To the story, Where live wished to [bad word] dead

My eyes are always open, I can’t drink water and hairs don't grow on my head
I will dress sun glasses when go to the masses, they can notice me after all

 
Have no money, have no documents and name
Have no breathing, what a pity, what a shame

But I am really scared at the cemetery, and faces disappear for me
People make me matter, with music it's better, they can notice me after all