You know men don't cry
Men don't cry, that's all.
Eyes stare at the point,
They will look at the window.

They look at their hands for a long time
Heart clenched in a fist
Apparently considered a duty
Keep your feelings shut.

They will only droop their heads
Stand up, walk along
A secret, invisible thread
What does pain mean.

The room is measured in steps
Again from window to door.
And they won't notice how they themselves
They will talk to themselves ...

Or they wave carelessly:
"Everything's fine with me", -
If great tenderness
Will flatten like a wheel.

You know, men don't cry.
They just don't cry - that's all.
Don't think otherwise
It's just rain in your face.