The crowed shouted: ‘Who keeps the silence is a sinner.’
I won’t say any word. You will be winner.
My nasty soul is dancing as a slave
On burning coals and on the blade,
That blade was steep edge of my life
I could have cut it with the knife.
Oh, my Lord, is this my simple whim? Is this my very guilt?
A silence is the answer for my bleed heart that you’d already killed.