Select language to translate this lyric
I know a man,
he lived right behind it,
he was tormented by an abstinence crisis,
tortured him for days.
He told me
that he met God himself.
That he is in the grave with one foot,
that he doesn't talk to himself.
The man struggled,
the man thought non-stop about white.
And not because he wanted to,
nor because he loved.
He had small breasts,
a pale face, an ugly face.
He suffered from chronic
no-no-no-insomnia.
I know a man,
he tried to take off his clothes.
But it is difficult from a height,
to come down painlessly.
He also told me
that he dreamed of some crows,
which croaked from a branch.
Which spoke to him.
That he is finished,
That he is only half a human being.
That he is one of the weaklings.
From the street prostitutes.
He had small females,
pale face, ugly face. He suffered from chronic insomnia