There once were times
That ive enjoyed
No more there are.
Gone, like the kids of Hameln did,
Abandoning their love.
The Pied Piper-drunken driver
Woke up with broken hands-
No memory remained of yesterday s events.
He takes his pills
He eats his meals
Unrealizing for a while, that just next to his door there lyes the body with no soul, of his beloved wife-in law.
And her s.
So after that I lost my will, desires and complaints.
No Master-junky could have helped,
With all his stuff for sale.
More love? Again? How can it be?