It is too short to show my life.
The soul says:
You owe me a comfortable life.
I press the cigarette butt,
I think of my younger brother far away,
Put yourself in the other's shoes, baby,
Who knows how much I love you,
I torture my body,
like a philosopher's thinking,
soul, sunset and night.
The fireworks coveted by the owl are above your head,
The jackal tears the body where the soul lives temporarily.
A clown named vulture also comes to share your body outside your soul.
There's no way out,
There's no way out,
The psychologist is as silent as a corpse driver,
There's only a howling whip,
There's no way out,
There's no way out,
Forget it,
Let's stay in prison,
I can't stand the hell.
The girl named Saint keeps you waiting,
There is no way to escape,
There is no way to escape,
Forget it,
Drinking Godot brand spirits,
smoking the remaining cigarettes by thugs,
There is no way to escape,
There is no way to escape.
EVIL KING
I wrote poems to relieve the pain of life.