Which makes us seem like fools,
But nobody wants to lose.
People hate it from the beginning to the end,
Life compels us from birth to death.
Feeling of being locked up.
Feeling of being covered up.
Feeling or being shut up.
The yearning of being free is coming out,
Even if the enemy spreads among the masses, people lose control of going out.
Feeling of being concentrated on.
Feeling of being protected on.
Feeling on being insisted on.
The confusion of what’s true and fault,
And the countless flurried eyes are looking for a result.
A billion souls stand on the same line,
And a million brains work at the same time.
As the swanson changes from spring to summer,
The streets get empty and no visitors.
The masks hide the scare,
Because hope is so rare.