My thoughts like shackles, they refrain me from living.
My fears and worries, my flesh they eat.
My bones they dry up, my blood they suck.
How deep will you dig, into my very being,
How long will you dig to the dept of my essence.
Slowly but surely you drag me to the grave,
My will you have broken,
My restraint you have taken from me.
What’s left of me is nothing, but grief, grief, grief.
When will you let go of these fetters you cast on me
Until my last breath,
I heard you whisper to me.