These tunes, they feed my anguish,
What ever am I to do?
You won't know until it's through.
The raging fires of guilt,
Destiny thrown askew.
These tunes, they feed my anguish,
What ever am I to do?
I listen and listen,
I listen until I come to.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem