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.
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