They weep and sigh
The fakers began to fake cry
The music is stale, boring, and old
Recollection of memories and stories are told
I wanted a gold coffin
Got wood painted brown
God I really hate this cheap town
Everyone remembers me now
But everyone will soon move on
No one lives forever
Why stayed chained to the past?
A new love will replace my revered spot
And memories of me will no long last
And at the end of September
I will become a distant shadow from this town.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem