Tacit Fury

I hate myself when I'm alone
They say with gird "Hi is a stoned"
I like going home but all is vain
There I am stranger in the fame
My home's there, where I am
But I do hate all of them

Tell me what for I live
And I shell tell
That you are not right
You ask me why
But I shell dive
And I come back
But from myself
Nothing remained