It is to see a traitor go free
  It is to feel a filter in me
  It is to leave the lights that I saw
  It is to ask: is it easy to go
  
  In this dead hour
  Here with you
  Seconds are worthless
  In this dead hour
  When all is blank
  Minutes are worthless
  
  How long will it take until
  There will be room enough for hope
  It is so sad to see
  Dispossession
  It has become my obsession
  
  It is to have a knife in my back
  It is to say my soul got a crack