Blow off the poison of this sleeping ghost now Wake up you must kill the snake by your own hands You must take the torch and follow the final procession In it you will grow and dig out your buried rage
So glad to see you praise the hole (Fear ends) When crawling under skin (Snakes) Serve as veins. I'm glad to see you want to escape (From this) Jail Of Comfort (Run) To get the rythm.
Bodies in flames, face at least bright Of a light too dark Power of a creation too human Burn the system, he brings to the suicide Automatons of flesh, engaged in a dance too restricted