Excuse me crying, dear God.
I used to convince myself I may get a way, no matter how murk and narrow it has shown. But the more I know, the less I understand; The more I've been through, the less I get strong; The more I think, the less I clear. I go to bed in the midnight, I know something's going wrong. I wake up in the morning and I know something wrong is going on.
Everybody seems to know what's going wrong with the world, Nonetheless I don't even know what's going on in myself.