Оригинален текст
Our incorrect loading
could get out of us,
if we gave up.
To finally let go
free will we were given.
Our graves,
above the trees.
Our names in chalk (chalk).
The pressure of wealth.
Are no longer
The vacuum relentless.
The smithy where our values are burned.
The leech resting.
Our minds become clear.
In my withdrawal back to nothing.
Let them inherit this fire now
lest they forget what they were made.
Ever here ..