Print

I marked place in medieval summer beat A guillotine prepared for amusement of god and his crowd Shouting their annual menace (Into) the cruel vacuum rapidly descending Desiring death to anticipate the doom divine, the temptation, his triumph Thus, as no martyr I burn (at) the cross With lack of strength to climb out of the white abyss again Behead me! For at the depths of this spiral Even death cannot disburden me of life. Aus Songtexte Mania