Repeats.

History repeats herself.
Am I doomed to the life
my mother chose to write?

History repeats herself.
Was her choice, too, a lie?
Did she live her mother's life?

Repetition makes an impression.
Are their mistakes
now mine to make?

Give your heart to the one
who will hurt it the most:
Love them, and then love their ghost.

Give your heart to the one
who will leave you first,
who will never quench your thirst.

History repeats herself.
Mama, Oma, Omama:
Is it your lives I walk?