At the times of grief,
Or despair or some kind of disbelief,
I have a place where I can go,
To cut that grey rope that connects me with sorrows,
Is my building of hope.

Even if He,
The building's resider,
Has never talked to me,
Still I share with Him all the secrets,
And all my stupid dreams.

The building of hope is where people go,
To get tied,
With a bit of hope.
But see how...