Y-luk-o Zeke (part 1)
Inside injured
Thoughts become blurred
A bald shaved head
Eyes looking dead
Voice smothered by pain
Tears on timeless stains
Working day for day
Anything to block the pain
Composure made of steel
His smile was never real
Bearing life in slavery
Freedom what Irony
Chains on his feet
Sprst du den schmerz?
This isn't his fate
Sitting their blank
Comatose state
But his heart will never have caught
The one he really sought
Sprst du den schmerz?
Crucified by his self
Will he ever see?
Pray that he will see
Sprst du den schmerz?
Only he knows the reason
Hftling seiner selbst
He is never feeling
