Beneath our age and shape and size,
Beneath our plans for power and pelf,
Beneath humanity's disguise,
We cry, the child - the inner self.
We cry while turning life's first page
For love and for attention's touch,
Then, cry more in than out with age,
But still keep crying just as much.
No need to hide, we ought to spill
Our soul in fits of rushing rain.
Our Mother and our Father will
Soon cradle us and soothe our pain.
| bedankt! |
|7 maal bedankt|