We see you seated with your feet lying up, we expect something from you, but we don't know what.You've been there, maybe for hours, something hurts and you scream at times.
Your hands push your liver and your face is seized with unbearable pain.
You talk with God, you have a conversation with him but we only can listen to you.
You ask God to let you to continue your mission, you shout that you need time to doing it in peace.
What mission, Dad? What mission God entrusted you?
You have your audience, you know, it's your theater, we are your children;
is your death scene again.
In a few days you'll have surgery because you have stones stocked inside you.
A grain of truth in your ever invented dance of death.
Your hands push your liver and your face is seized with unbearable pain.
You talk with God, you have a conversation with him but we only can listen to you.
You ask God to let you to continue your mission, you shout that you need time to doing it in peace.
What mission, Dad? What mission God entrusted you?
You have your audience, you know, it's your theater, we are your children;
is your death scene again.
In a few days you'll have surgery because you have stones stocked inside you.
A grain of truth in your ever invented dance of death.
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