as you feed on gasoline
everyday, though a machine you're not
wanting to be an engine
on a 3, turbo-powered and always active
no matter what i say
you go on with what makes you happy
so you tell me
and i have all my wishes for you
go on
have a good dose of gas
feed on it
every moment, burn, burn, burn
glow and have the hearth of the heart
be bad, burn, and then char and then be
just a name somewhere
engraved, as i write the epitaph
'here lies a man
his dreams all granted
he burned himself to death
in the name of love and lust
now he is happily become dust'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem