Walking one day in the park it came like winter came
In their hands there were so many things they wished to do
Fortune! Fortune! Let them go while ride a rocking horse
Go to hell! Cred a man while crept weeping a way
And she died and hen force
He'll be know as a Fortune's love
He could be a poor pilgrim walking all over him
He looks around and calls ''The Fates'' rejoicing in his faith
And he yells over his pain: ''I went to learn and see
How is necessary in me to grow in beauty things''
Then he shall be one of those who makes things beautiful
They are healthy mindless oh!
So gord but I'm not
Even under the ground I could hear this town, this ''force-disease''
This dionyssian force with its rebel roar comes to me
I'll be a perfect man oh! oh!
Tell me when
Oh! this pain! this pain again!
I'll be a perfect man oh! oh!
Tell me when
Oh! This joy this joy again!
This joy, this joy lararara
This joy lararara