| Long ago, a crumbling whole of me was split in two. |
| Spat
|
| Forth into darkness and light, like the Birth from the
|
| Womb. |
| I live like this in stillborn life. |
| I shed my skin and
|
| Blood and vein, still i couldn’t find my way home again
|
| So climb inside and rot here for a while. |
| Outside I can hear
|
| This dying world screaming. |
| Displaced from my earthly
|
| Home, like the corpse from the tomb. |
| So climb inside and
|
| Rot here for a while. |
| This pain I own, A gift in return for
|
| A taking, a wounding, a breaking. |
| This is our childhood’s
|
| End. |
| Can’t remember when it all began. |
| I want to burn
|
| The masters and the slaves and those who pray that I’ll
|
| Repent and be like them. |
| A gift in return for a taking, a
|
| Wounding, a breaking. |
| This is our childhood’s end. |
| Can’t
|
| Remember when it all began. |
| I want to burn the masters
|
| And the slaves and those who pray that i’ll repent and be
|
| Like them. |
| I’m in exile. |
| I’m in exile. |
| Eternally bleeding
|
| But not broken. |
| The price I pay for vision, I’m not
|
| Broken. |
| After all, what can one see with blind open eyes
|
| I’m in exile. |
| Eaten the dirt from my own grave. |
| Chosen to
|
| Be a certain slave. |
| Now in this way I die. |
| Yet I am more
|
| Alive. |
| Yet I am more alive, I’m in exile |