That which flows in crimson
Doesn't flow within my veins
Only water, no expression
nothing to relieve my pains.
But those of them which I can't see
are te ones who hurt the most
all my troubles and my needles
stick my eyes into the coast.

Where the waves are going
I don't want to hold their gains
Only water, flowing freely
like a storm, release my pains.
But those of them which I can't hear
are the ones that hurt the most
take my troubles and my needles
and unhinge them from my coast.