Sifting Away

Oh I'm sifting away, my life from loots 

Oh I'm sifting away sand from my boots
Is there anything left in what you say
That I shouldn't consider throwing away?

And there is nothing left in all my strife
It had numbed so much, that it cut by knife
And now I'm here, aiming at the bin
throwing away - all what you came to win.

Oh I'm sifting away, the dirt from a vice
Oh I'm sifting away, meat from this slice
Is there anything left you want to say
that forever should be kept, here to stay?

And for once I'll feel a winter so warm,
wandering around somewhere in a swarm.
And is there any memory I should keep,
before I burn all bridges and take a leap?

Oh I'm sifting away, my heart from a maze
Oh I'm sifting away, flowers from the vase
Is there anything left - perhaps in a word,
that could take me so high, flying like a bird.

Oh I'm sifting a way of ‘sifting away’.
Oh I'm sifting away, of sifting a way.