Текст песни Memorials - Забытая душа

A child's tears about asking for bread
Whose young forehead is pricked with black thorns,
Whose hands are stretched out to passers-by and to the sky,
More terrible and more expensive than oil and gold.

Emaciated pale childish hands are stretched out asking for hope and bread.
The fragile body of a forgotten soul, torn apart by dogs and abandoned in anger.
The mourning rhythm of indifferent walks drowns out the cry of children's prayer phrases.
Turning away from the light, we do not see the teary shine of the infinitely deep eyes.
On this small bright face, a smile longs to pour life into the origins,
But the pain of the loneliness of a forgotten soul gives rise only to tears of revived streams.

A child's tears about asking for bread
Whose young forehead is pricked with black thorns,
More terrible and more expensive than oil and gold,
And hands are stretched out to passers-by and to the sky ...