Who am I?
Just the leaf on the tree
waiting to die?
Who am I?
Just a drop of the sea,
waiting to dry?
Are we ready to die?

Can I be a glimpse of truth
in an everlasting lie?
Can I stay in forever youth,
without ever asking why?
Are we ready to die?


Shush, be silent as the night
Just a matter of opinion
is the question of wrong and right.