Sometimes I close my eyes,
And travel through time.
I collide with my past.
The least I find is love,
But it gradually fades,
And what remains
Is hate and scorn.
My mother, she never loved me,
My father, he despised me
Before I was born.
What else can I say
Of my disgrace?
Tied to derision I continue to be.
When will I have love?
When will all this end?
Living like this is nothing easy.
You feel you want to die.
You tell your own self:
"If nobody loves me, then why am I living? My life has no sense!"
But something happens
When you have the knife
On one hand, with the blade
In direction to your veins.
A thought that f