whatever I had with me I sold them all
my dreams even myself I sold them all
my aims and ambitions, my sweat and blood
except the old memories I sold them all
i wrote books but don’t know what I wrote in them
their covers, themes, characters I sold them all
what should be done and what should not I did both
sins and piety, heaven and hell I sold them all
slowly and steadily everything left me
it’s just the loneliness rest I sold them all