Who is the old man, who fills
my heart with greatest pain
yet his name remains unheard?
I look at you and true tears shake
my eternal Saturnworld.
Who is the old man, whose
picture burned itself
down to the bottom of my soul.
You push me back and raise me up,
the criteria for both I long to know.
Who are you I worship? What is the
name of the one I saw?
Tell me how to reach you, to you I'd
bow my head in awe.
You speak to me but what is it I hear?
We have never really touched...
- such is the design of my greatest fear.
Cruel, cruel, cruel... a veil I cannot penetrate,
in different worlds we dwell,
attempting to dissolve what separates.
I force my face against this strangest
membrane-wall and desperately I call for you
from the darkest depths of my lonely soul.
The mist of the dimensions
through which to glance it seems not allowed,
or maybe it's just that our
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