These robes were sacret once to me
they seemed to cover this body like a magic cloak
now I know: they are jsut a piece of cloth to keep away cold.
All monks were holy once to me
they seemed to have wisdom, be free from the yoke
now I know: they are just men, getting sick and old.
This holy life was the only one to me
it seemed worth living – everything else just a joke
now I know: life is to be lived, holiness is sold.