Alcohol is in my veins, Tears fall as I think of you, The true memory you left me with Is a key to the wine of melancholy...
I drown myself in the deepest of sorrows, As you hurted on that stake they burnt my soul as well, Your pure feelings, your pure hate, it was not enough...
Natassja, my beloved satanic witch, The power in your eyes and yourself, Worked for the numble in men, Pass the bottle, pass the knife, Pas me your unholy crafts...
I shall never forget you, the best of all there is, I lick your cold lips, I embrace your coffin as I sigh in woe, You never kissed the priest, you never drank the blood of jews, Weird, they say - well, turn it upside down like you did, And they kill, kill, and they take you away...
Now, centuries later, I do yours and my sign, You live in me, like you moved in with my soul, Your resurrection is the spirit of you — installed in me, So now, your thoughts and your pain are my wine And Natassja, I'll get these goddamn angels drunk...