When Morning Comes, ljóð frá 19. maí 2015.

A good man was my grandpa,

God has place, that's where he dwells.

This is what he built, will neither fall nor fail,

the father of the lies still something to the winner always sells.

 

The love is in this land today,

look still out this window fine!

Blessed are those who feel what's good and grand,

gloomy stands the popularity and maybe today's wine.

 

Greed is turning inside out

all what used to be so right.

Leading not the life that could have taught them some,

lustrous, happy, standing though in middle of the fight.

 

Envy 'till the tear it down!

To the mark of beasts again!

Beautiful my land when morning comes, they care,

keep it as a jewel, turn it bigger for the ruling class of men!

 

Angry, sad and almost lost,

is there nowhere help for those?

So they let the bells give dooms, who dare,

dried the land when sun is burning hell so really close!