Questions کے بول

I´ve misunderstood the world of adults As a child it seemed to me mad And now, when I belong to it Well dunno I don´t know I´m still off, the trail, I don´t fit, in well. Suffering by thoughts Not even moaning often help Somewhere in the safe corner Not even whispering radio drown all the voices Impossible to escape. Yatha Tatra Tathanyatra Pictures of black mothers in my head Soothing children in their laps Starving done up, hardly able to cry Questions are flashing in their eyes. Thin little arms are reaching after me I´m out of depth and I crack out to cry I turn my eyes and squirm with shame I know that cramps, I know that pain. Yatha Tatra Tathanyatra Suffering by questions How I can live through whole my life with ban on my eyes With heart locked in concrete sarcophagus I still trail my own way ­-­ the way To the heap of dung somewhere Do I really want further walk this way? The African black mothers, Soothing words in my ears Let sleep, sleep till I prepare something to eat And I see, she doesn't have more than water and stones Their future views in my head Are taking turns and words flows away. Yatha Tatra Tathanyatra Suffering by questions Why we western world men Happily drowning in landless Consumption with books, wisdom are gifted. We can´t manage.