bliadhnachan gun dragh

UIll a chairdean, de bhur naidheachd? Tha adhbhar eile agam a bhith toilichte a-nis, fhuair mi brath bho charaid ann an Lunnainn, le teachdaireachd gaol, ged a bha an deoch oirre, chan ann a h-uile latha a gheibh mi rudeigin mar sin bho dhuine sam bith.

Agus bhruidhinn mi ri mo leighiche inntinn ur, bladebladebla

A-nis tha mi cho sona nach eil mo bhardachd a' nochdadh ach mar rud ro-bhronach, ach cuiridh mi e an lathair fhathast.

I chase the spirit of a woman
And beg for a difference of place
If I had happened differently
My mind would still be chaste
And as unaccustomed to insanity
As the heart of she that dies
In my dreams but always lives
And gives to me her lies
Which alter the structure
And deploy the denial
Reality crumbles
And I'm still on trial
In a court with no appeal
The church of the restrained mind
Where people disappear in their sanity
And murder is all you can find
For cures are against the logic
Of medecine and the state
The poor loonies drop their bodies
At an ever increasing rate
Into the pit of rebuttal
The deafening silence grows
Where the victims are avenged
Well no-one ever knows
Who should speak for the silent
Whose life is ebbing away
If we destroy all patriarchy
Then the Nazis will still get away
My love was murdered by women
Who wanted her to die
And now I'm returned to the hospital
Sedately for to lie

Gu robh math agad a chairdean,
agus tioraidh
D