Odessa کے بول

How many of us truly Live? Knowing at day’s end that we are free And, with Joy, laugh towards the Moon For monumental sleep How many of us truly Love? Desperately lying with anyone or thing And, made numb, turn away from the Sun Into the coma-void of sleep I am no longer whole A face for none to know A shape beyond the Snow And I have lost my hold A burning down of Rome The May 7th of the Soul Slumber in the wilds of Isolation I fight until my final breath Severed from all communication I fight to self-realize until Death How may of us truly Feel The death of our land below these filthy streets? And, with self-sense lost, we daydream towards the Sun In the denial of waking sleep