TOO MUCH SORROW

Shut of the lights of man
And build an artifical light

Shut of the world of happiness
Sadness, however long

Serious vanity comes from them
So much pain when we smile
Why then a bawlin' love
And Long loving hate
Of nothing ever creat

If a pleague of curse falls
I will be your curse
After I am Cursed

This is my own very soul
tormenting me

There is happiness not within.