Men don't cry so,
swallow your tears and keep a strong front.
The wolves can smell fear you're in the midst of a hunt
There's plenty of lambs still left to slaughter;
One last meal and the merciful water
I hope I don't die thirsty, I'm still young at thirty
I'm young now but I will get old
They can't buy me yet but I will get sold
My bones are still wet but they will get mold
One day they'll drop my carcass in a hole
I wonder if angels cry over not having souls