We are lonely blind prophets In the world where the sun can only burn In the world, where truth is considered to be a poison And nobody needs your help
Barefoot on knife blades Dance, dance, dance, And his pain The red lips kiss.
Here, where silence covers despair Dumb wanderers hide their pain behind the dance Morals, laws, bans and covenants Will cover dead Ego with the snow
Barefoot on knife blades Dance, dance, dance, And his pain The red lips kiss.