| It’s time to wake up, my dear child!
|
| The fairytale is over for you!
|
| Again in the world of witches drinking potions, and venal, greedy kings!
|
| Walk down the street, through blackness and dirt sale,
|
| You will not notice decrease in the grief
|
| And lewd condemnation!
|
| The crucified bodies on Calvary hill!
|
| Do you still think we’ve got out of mother’s belly?
|
| You a virus!
|
| So you need one more delayed vaccine!
|
| So defiantly, so disgustingly and feverishly ominous dwelling!
|
| Inhumanity and unholiness reflected in their scalpel!
|
| Cut over the cut covered a breathless body which was better than anybody of us!
|
| In your eyes it’s strangled by an umbilical cord! |
| Here is everything’s eventual!
|
| And no one can see your motley world! |
| Just sleep in the oblivion!
|
| There you have no a place! |
| In bloody silence we build the palaces of hatred and
|
| pain!
|
| These illusions we live! |
| The last thing you should to know — Saint Stilian is
|
| dead!
|
| Wake up! |
| We’re losing control!
|
| Dark wave washes horizon!
|
| Unborn uttering last squeal!
|
| We can betray our blood just one time in our life! |