With every rumor which have spread like a bird,
I feel there's nothing much I can do.
I can't supply life the material it was made from,
I can only guess I'm a part of that.

Won't you tell me what you meant by screaming?
Not two gods but only one become in front of you.
The mind still recalls those words,
And there's nothing I can do.

With every chosen fragrance which was formed,
I felt so obscured.

Don't sell me those excuses, which lead to a dead end.
Just tell me the truth, help me find my god.