It’s raining birds Seagulls, nightingales They don’t sing, they stink Feathers glow in the dark
Black clouds thicken Your shutters won’t help No one to answer your prayers Lord of Flies sends his regards
What doesn’t kill you makes you strive for death What doesn’t wound you makes you cut your wrists
Fear not the sickness that harms your body This one will leave you in perfect shape This is the virus that kills illusions Fatal disease that opens the open cage
Be careful what you wish for Pitiful knowledge junkies Be careful what you pray for Your sheep chasing the slaughter You would have never thrown the dice If you had learn the rules before But once you’ve started the game Don’t leave the table Don’t go home