Die Nasty Qui-Ling

The ability to descry is a game of skill, train your mind
Easier to learn the ropes than to find the sense of life

Every second of a minute, every hour of a day
I don't want to abandon all hope
But who lives on hope will die of hunger this is our fate
Fool you all time you won't notice

Hammering on a nail that just won't go in is easy for me
However when I hear you talk it is so hard to keep self-control

Every month of every year surrounded by
Foolish simpletons
Torture my ears give offence to intelligence
Beware of ignorance

Fight so hard on your tongue that speaks out
Searching for a life (that) I'm unable to find

Will I ever be able to see, let alone to understand
False promises you can't keep, I have doubts, so disappear