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The Man's Sorrow

 
Time has stopped in this prison since last December
I cannot wash the blood still on my hands
Nameless, they always call me silly number
I am a machinist that wastes a long time

Lay down on the cold floor like a fetus
I cannot understand which it's day or night

Always, anger leads to hate
I am thinking about the past
And listening to your voice

Where should I go from now?
For a lot of things that you geve me
It never fills up my empty mind
I know I can't become a butterfly

My everlasting pain is going on...
There was snow, and I was running
I had a knife in my left hand
Always, anger leads to hate
I have lost my honesty
And I listened to my voice