You are the cause.
The cause for all my pain,
the cause for all my joy.

Every day without you is a day of depression,
a day of pain,
a day of hurt,
a day of sorrow,
a day of distance,
a day of tears,
a day of love.

I´d kill myself to show that I care,
that I hurt,
that I love.

And as you knew, you´d fell a tear,
and that tear would be the best thing in my short life.
The beautiful round drop falling from your soul,
your wounded soul,
your wounded heart.

Wounded of sorrow,
sorrow for me.

(Ég biðst forláts á að þetta sé á ensku, en mér finnst þægilegast að semja á ensku)