The ruins of the ideas

The ruins of the ideas I shout loud 
hallelujah, no one can hear, 
echo corresponds to the wind? 
Where is the man for me, 
stalwart supple boar, 
which is enough power to take 
this bizarre woman. 
Real crazy, Finnish. 
I stand up my hands to unveil, 
This is one way to spend the Feast of Pentecost. 
Where can I Pentecost I could get, 
of what I would like. 
My head, singing lonely 
the nightingale, it startled cry 
and perhaps was silent for a moment. 
I only morning I open the zipper, 
and I begin this day rise to the trip.