| Deal with the two mysteries
|
| Of creation, life and death
|
| I wait for a new life to come
|
| I wait to smell the breath
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| The world to me’s a secret
|
| Which I desire to divine
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| Something is at work in my soul
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| Which I cannot assign
|
| (And so my heart)
|
| And so my heart
|
| It doesn’t beat for you no more
|
| (My heart)
|
| It doesn’t beat for you no more
|
| (My heart)
|
| It doesn’t beat for you no more
|
| And all it does is feeling sore
|
| (My heart)
|
| It doesn’t beat for you no more
|
| (My heart)
|
| It doesn’t beat for you no more
|
| (My heart)
|
| It doesn’t beat for you no more
|
| And all it does is feeling sore
|
| Mortality’s no secret
|
| For the dream is long long gone
|
| Myself is a place where no one
|
| Wants to stay for long
|
| (And so my heart)
|
| And so my heart
|
| It doesn’t beat for you no more
|
| (My heart)
|
| It doesn’t beat for you no more
|
| (My heart)
|
| It doesn’t beat for you no more
|
| And all it does is feeling sore
|
| (My heart)
|
| It doesn’t beat for you no more
|
| (My heart)
|
| It doesn’t beat for you no more
|
| (My heart)
|
| It doesn’t beat for you no more
|
| And all it does is feeling sore
|
| The summer months passed in heart and soul
|
| Never did fields bestow a more plentiful harvest
|
| That withered so slow
|
| He who believes his native town to be the world, may rest assured
|
| But I learned the loss of hope and innocence
|
| And both are not to be cured
|
| (And so my heart)
|
| And so my heart
|
| It doesn’t beat for you no more
|
| (My heart)
|
| It doesn’t beat for you no more
|
| (My heart)
|
| It doesn’t beat for you no more
|
| And all it does is feeling sore
|
| (My heart)
|
| It doesn’t beat for you no more
|
| (My heart)
|
| It doesn’t beat for you no more
|
| (My heart)
|
| It doesn’t beat for you no more
|
| And all it does is feeling sore |