From:
Wake up feeling good
Go to bed frequently lost in the wood
A soldierīs tale of soul winning love
No drunken stuff spewing out of my mouth
All over now out
Birdsong in the night
The sound drags a net through the twilight
Emptiness in computors bothers me
These are the seas in our minds
We make our own confine in time
Translate to:
Wake up feeling good
Go to bed frequently lost in the wood
A soldierīs tale of soul winning love
No drunken stuff spewing out of my mouth
All over now out
Birdsong in the night
The sound drags a net through the twilight
Emptiness in computors bothers me
These are the seas in our minds
We make our own confine in time