In a world of hate We search for fate All lost story That may have lead us to glory The mountain of life are to be climbed The stream are to be heaped For we peddle not to fall Or roll aimlessly like a ball Our life we cherish Will never perish Bad things we fantasize Though now we realize Our expensive life Will not end with a knife Do not hid your face Without granting us grace Here are my request Before I leave for my quest I know the ink ends here But my aim for song never ends