seven years with the pen, seven years with the paper, one moemnt of all, one side of labour, to get the words, to get the sign, to get the message, that one could dye, to hand or reach out, to whoever that is there, to listen and to read, to grind the paper, is all i had, for no one listened no one read, no one could understand in what way i was dead, seven years with the paper, seven years with the pen, one could almost think, i had no friends, seven years with the paper, seven years with the pen i did not understand, how my life was turned to hell, seven years with the pen, seven years with the paper, yet the words dimnished into exile, seven years with the pen, seven years with the paper, they say seven is the gods number, so do i have his power? seven years with the paper, seven years with the pen, a weapon to chooce a weapon to lend, seven years with the paper, seven years with the pen, i sit here today, with my keyboard and my friends.