Thoughtless you lay on your bed
Staring at the blank ceiling above your head
Why are you so empty inside?
Are there no thoughts at all, or do they hide?

There is no heart in you, no passion to follow
Might as well use that self-made gallow
Apathy in your voice, tiredness in your eyes
There was paise, but perhaps they were all lies?

But surely you can do something with yourself?
You come from a place with more wealth
So why don't you use that fucking privilege?
You could do so much – it's not like you still live in a village

But you are too lazy to do anything
Why the fuck won't you do something?
You have no talents, no...