As I carry my guitar - walls, before me, separate! I can see no freedom that evil fortune brings! You can cut my throat, you can slash my veins, irate, - But, be careful not to rip my cherished silver strings! Iíll dig myself into the dirt, and disappear, perhaps, - Would you shield a tortured youth underneath your wings! They have climbed into my soul, and tore it into scraps, I only hope they do not rip my cherished silver strings. They took my freedom - my guitar, my life is out of order, - I had to watch these scumbags ravage through my things! "Kick me straight into the mud, throw me in the water - But, I beg you, do not rip my cherished silver strings!" What has happened, brothers? Am I never destined To observe the sun again, or how the twilight sinks?! They took away my freedom, left my soul in festers, - And now they have completely ripped my cherished silver strings...
© Andrey Kneller. Translation, ?