Now they look dead in the streets
The once so happy and healthy creatures...

For hours,days,nights and weeks have passed
In this dark world wild i am a lone wanderer...

As a cloud that wanders and floats over
Seas and hills...

Ooh my Belle,
Like a bee bears honey...

You took it
I let it...

O'
Dear...

"Move!", "Move!", "Faster!", "Faster!"
We marched; brain-dead. Our bodies inactive...

if i could only remember not
the good times in paradise...

You're a precious mother to many
You're a living mother to all life...

Had it not been mobbed by misery.
Not as i hurtle i'd loath the hurling...

He barely moved in balky visage
As the wintry day dismissed our dialogue...

The torments
of a caring heart...