For me the bride is going to cry,
For me my friends will pay up what I owe.
For me all others will finish singing,
And maybe my enemies will drink to me.
No longer am I given the interesting books,
And my guitar is out of tune.
And I canít go up, and I canít go down,
I canít see the sun, I canít see the moon.
I canít go out - I am not permitted,
I can only pace from door to wall,
I canít turn left, I canít turn right,
I can only get half of the sky, only dreams.
Dreams of when Iíll be free, When my lock will be removed,
When theyíll return my guitar to me.
Who will meet me there? How they will embrace me?
And what kind of songs theyíll sing to me?