I dont know what I want, what I want, what I look for night and day what do you look at my tired look, or depressed. And they are uniform But in the inner self, they tied my lap to two hundred ponds
from these people who heard my poetry, because they smelled a flower but they sat in the backyard, they told me crazy, I told me a madman, I was infamous. They are But in the inner being the inferiority, they tied my lap to two hundred ponds
or gods,
My heart, my crazy heart, who burn the alienation , no longer shouting, God forbid. Inwardly, the inferiority was closed to my lap of two hundred tribes
