Fevered
Marking this body of infancy
Wounds - smiling my way
Again emotions fail to exist
The anguish of existence calls us all
The world is sick
and life is the disease
Feverish we breed
See the willow that embodies my weeping
And so the weeping calls us all
The world is sick
And life is the disease
Feverish we breed
The loneliness feeds my resentment
I remain dead
Writer/s: ERIK BARTHOLD, PETER SELIN
