Rahman Henry - I've to Tell the Pope, Next Sunday lyrics

Being worm-eaten, ceaseless, still Giggling all the apples, one after another Those green, rosy, red And gloomy, darkened clouds Flying, flying, flying and flying away What a sign of inauspicious days 2 People run after light and hope, always Keep it up more and more but jerks off less Yet, keep up an eye, where there is darkness