{I try
 To understand  my real life,
 And what will happen when I die...
 I think
 It's just a cheap trick.

 I find
 A sense in every turn of life;
 I know this spring won't make me die,
 I know
 Snow will be no more.}

For everything
Is sold for chink
I have to pay my bills, but have no will to pay.

For we are real,
I get new skills
And soon I'll be the last of those who tries to pray.

[Why should the weather be so bad?
 Why should the hammer knock my head?]

When lying down
In bed for one
I can't imagine how I lived alone at all.

I need your being
Near, here with me;
My love won't be erased by this spring's downfall.

[Why should the rain be cold and wet?
 Why should the hammer knock my head?]