when you looked at me on that starry night
i thought, don't watch me, i'm scared of bloodshed
but you were born on the ides of march
and so far, only my hands are shaking
your explosive tongues aim at me
fed by gunpowderedbox lodged in throat
and all i can do is look at the grass
and cry softly, i don't wanna die
i don't wanna die.
but fate is remote-controlled
and you can't choose to kill me
even if the sabre poised in your right hand
shines bright.
