My guitar weeps its tears without refrain, without refrain as its music plays out my pain. Guitar, you interpret my pain in your vibrato, a pain, that knows no happy outcome. I shall drink waters of this fountain, this fountain, poisoned, shall forever remain, poisoned because my tears have fallen therein, tears mixed with profound anguish. It is anguish that overflows and colors my hearts’ melodies without restraint, no restraint can hold back this agony. The agony goes without a name, no name because to speak it aloud ...