| Here I sit at the fire
|
| Liquor’s bitter flames warm my languid soul
|
| Here I drink alone and remember
|
| A graven life, the stain of her memory
|
| In this cup, love’s poison
|
| For love is the poison of life
|
| Tip the cup, feed the fire
|
| And forget about useless fucking hope
|
| Lost in the desolation of love
|
| The passions we reap and sow
|
| Lost in the desolation of life
|
| This path that we walk
|
| Here’s to love, the sickness
|
| The great martyr of the soul
|
| Here’s to life, the vice
|
| The great herald of misery
|
| In this cup, spiritus frumenti
|
| For this is the nectar of the spirit
|
| Quench the thirst, drown the sorrow
|
| And forget about cold yesterdays…
|
| Lost in the desolation of love
|
| The passions we reap and sow
|
| Lost in the desolation of life
|
| This path that we walk
|
| Lost in the desolation of love
|
| The sorrows we reap and sow
|
| Lost in the desolation of life
|
| The path that we walk |