I object to this cruel fate
I object to this endless suffering
To the peak of the animal, to the peak of life
To all the troubles
I
object to this half-baked love
To die without living
To
die without living
I object to this
To the lies I write
It doesn't leave my neck
I
object to this unchanging summer I object to this troubled chance
To the fake of love,
to the peak of life To such a state
I object to this
To the lies I write
To the unstoppable words
To the unfriendly faces
I object to this
It doesn't leave my neck
It doesn't
seek hell for me