In your heart the pain creeps Bites gnaws cuts and presses Already also you do not feel even on however Really strongly it will wound you
In your thoughts the lie runs It poisons your prejudice In the right hand the knife is compressed Again pulls on a silly act
In your fingers the shiver runs The sight again searches for an exit from a cage The back is pierced with drops with a rain Will wound a skin maple branches
In your throat the saliva has accumulated Eyes have lit up madness fires You adore as it groans Shouts coils from blasphemy shares
The body becomes covered by slanting hems The pain has found an exit in your heart They are guilty in all it It is guilty in it
Devil kind of an agony of death Gives you pleasures paradise In an infernal copper horned devils Still cook you... now shout!