I hate to death myself – I cannot find my place in paradise
Where my lover spends his days.
I often cry because I want it myself
But I don’t know why I see him but not myself.
He covers his eyes but says he sees himself
Yet I am with open eyes cannot see myself.
Yes, I’ve done a lot but he’s never done less
Yet I can see him crystal clear but I don’t see myself.
Maybe it is because to death I hate myself
That he sees my body but not myself.