Из альбома: Cogito Ergo Macto
In the madness of day we scream
Yet no matter how loud
One can never surpass the din
Of the roaring crowd
In the dead of night we weep
Yet even then no one will hear
For all are too asleep
To notice our tears
So we turn our pain into song
To touch their hearts
Yet it's not until long
After we depart
That any among
Them acknowledges our art