Who knows when it comes
Who knows when it goes
Who wanna knows what going on
Then pick me on for their laughin'
Like I'm dying to my grave
For my safe on my own
Anything I've never known for the ages
Faces are masked, I'm asking
When it gotta comes, when it gotta goes
I wanna know who will come
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
confusion is a blessing because it calls forth the need to travel on that path the path wide and broad the end of which is truth a fine poem