He said: "You will die when the time comes, not earlier" This is his will and let this be I am the grain of sand, a little worm in the world's eyes; and it depends on me only What will happen You ask me where my human pride had gone I put it between the portraits of the animals, for the bible Is matchless in myths and tales only I renounce my humanity For me this word has different taste. I look for a situation when I could execute my nature and evolution The vision of the being as a vase is an utopy The soul is designed to make the body enliven the weak idea The body is designed to make the idea take root in the soul Like a grain in a generous soil Another light actuates my plans, another ways I walk looking for happiness It's unreal to be the toy order and harmony when you're the chaos in your eyes