jest kako je pitanje bilo više retoričko, no
sloboda počinje obično tamo gdje završava bojazan, jer
moć fantazije nas čini beskonačnima,
u konačnosti.
(dok cvrčki pivaju pismu)
Breathe deep the gathering gloom,
Watch lights fade from every room.
Bedsitter people look back and lament,
Another day's useless energy spent.
Impassioned lovers wrestle as one,
Lonely man cries for love and has none.
New mother picks up and suckles her son,
Senior citizens wish they were young.
Cold hearted orb that rules the night,
Removes the colours from our sight.
Red is grey and yellow white.
But we decide which is right.
And which is an illusion?