In dark robes the people,
in a long column standing,
most familiar in front,
all the way down to those he had not seen before.
A pale image above this
She sees into people's souls,
Hear that name
Which meant everything to her.
"I don't want to go home, I'm going with them!
I don't want to go back to this way!"
A shot is heard in the heart, a shot is heard...
Where do the frightened crawl?
Where does the dance of the outcasts arise?
What is tearing down the world of outcasts?
What remains when they are gone home?
The pictures are protected even after they go.
All the rooms remain exactly as they are.
All the beautiful gardens turn into a mixture of pain and tears.
Still thundering screams in my head, "just not him, not him..."
"I don't want a sky without all the stars.
I don't want gardens without trees."
The picture is the only one that doesn't know. The picture just doesn't know!