Is this some kind of confession?
Am I obliged to let you speak?
Are you still wondering whether
our actions are ever
completely pure?
How could I be sure?

When all thieves lose their composure,
when starvation is forcing its way 

 So we seek out the lonely roads
to rush towards the useless
and leave this riot of blossoms
to the simple minds

If you decide to accept my offer
to understand this sacrifice

Think of me as inanimate matter
to hide me from your lies.