why did nobody tell me before 

that my life is a mere folklore 

that no matter how I implore 

I won't live anymore 

why did nobody tell me yesterday 

that tomorrow is my doomsday 

that there is no use in running away 

curtains are shut at the end of the play 

why did nobody tell me in the past 

that the blade is always downcast 

that this existence of contrast 

is fated to the outcast 

why did nobody tell me last year 

that soon my smile will disappear 

that my excecutioner is still unclear 

is he the rope or the fear 

why did nobody tell me previously

that if I fought so ruthlessly 

I will not be forgiven graciously 

nor will I die painlessly 

why did nobody tell me earlier 

that begging for a life made me lowlier 

that wheeping turns one girlier 

and waiting quietly is manlier