We keep on playing for two thousand years
Same funny game without sence, without mercy,
But we don"t use the chance to make intentions sheer,
To throw away the husk of unforgivable sealed curses.
I shall step back in fear, but gift this puppet dance
In your asylum, next to icons, smashed to pieces...
For every seven seconds, with four nails in the hands
We cut the flesh of Christ, we cut the dark with glimpses.