Turn the radio off. Close your lips.
Kill the songbirds, hear the voices inside.
Feeling free from all grips,
Open eyes, hush your soul, stop to hide.

No more music,
No more sounds
No more words to speak.
Revolution
Is all around...
But why, why I feel so weak?

My best song has been already written
By somebody else, whom I hate.
He so easily received all my greetings,
There"s no use to revenge, at this rate.

No more music,
My heart pounds,
The silence is complete.
I"ve received
A mortal wound...
No need to compete.