I´ve misunderstood the world of adults
As a child it seemed to me mad
And now, when I belong to it
Well dunno I don´t know
I´m still off, the trail, I don´t fit, in well.

Suffering by thoughts
Not even moaning often help
Somewhere in the safe corner
Not even whispering radio drown all the voices
Impossible to escape.

Yatha Tatra Tathanyatra

Pictures of black mothers in my head
Soothing children in their laps
Starving done up, hardly able to cry
Questions are flashing in their eyes.

Thin little arms are reaching after me
I´m out of depth and I crack out to cry
I turn my eyes and squirm with shame
I know that cramps, I know that pain.

Yatha Tatra Tathanyatra

Suffering by questions
How I can live through whole my life with ban on my eyes
With heart locked in concrete sarcophagus
I still trail my own way ­-­ the way
To the heap of dung somewhere
Do I really want further walk this way?

The African black mothers,
Soothing words in my ears
Let sleep, sleep till I prepare something to eat
And I see, she doesn't have more than water and stones
Their future views in my head
Are taking turns and words flows away.

Yatha Tatra Tathanyatra

Suffering by questions
Why we western world men
Happily drowning in landless
Consumption with books, wisdom are gifted.
We can´t manage.