One has to see what isn't shown
One has to hear what isn't said

One has to get what can't be owned
And then to live when all is dead

Fustration is the guide of your actions
You fear this dimension of silence

You're bathing in the dust of illusions
Neglecting the roots of existence

Better face your disgrace
Your stigma shines in your eyes
Another season to rise

One has to seek heat in the frost
One has to fall when he should climb

One has to bear his heavy cross
Until he's fallen seven times

One has to face the loneliness
'Cause life's a croweded solitude

One has to tame the emptiness
And then to feel its plenitude