A lifelong lamentation. Bitten um tausende Beichte, auf hunderte Sprachen.
Oh, woe upon me; for my weakened heart!
Flees from all plight, be it far or nigh!
One side in flames; asking to burn away from sight;
Other side, hollow; yet ever persistent to exist,
Lamenting the flames, it lets out an empty sigh.
Oh, rejoice all; for my blessed mind!
Lends repentance to the sinners of boredom;
With its witty jokes and manners lacking seldom,
Yet for the flowers of evil of others it is blind;
Time to make way for own my garden; would you mind?
Oh, what more is there to say; for my soul!
Never felt by others; ever seen by yours truly;
Encased in brown fur and buttons made of pearl,
It is an old box, containing anything barely;
Through it’s thousand holes shines a screen of hell.