| We know the secret reason, | 
| the reason for his parricide, | 
| the silent and illusive try to stop the fleeting hand of time. | 
| A strategy, that will always be | 
| but a hopeless venture, bound to fail, | 
| and all he ever does conceive is a twisted kind of burial; | 
| which he had never thought to yield…- | 
| as something further lies concealed. | 
| Burying the children in a hurry, secretly within the tomb, | 
| in the gentle safety … of his own belly, | 
| where, soundly asleep, they’ll be waiting for | 
| the time of their delivery … and exactly that’s the irony! | 
| Something that he had never thought to yield…- | 
| as something further lies concealed. | 
| Fear… this is the secret name, | 
| driving force and motivation | 
| for his attempt to stop the wheel; | 
| yes, something further lies concealed. | 
| We truly know the secret reason, | 
| still something further lies concealed, | 
| the dreadful murder, a sad illusion, | 
| now something else shall be revealed: | 
| I, your child, bury myself | 
| within your body… eagerly, | 
| forbidden taste, never admitted, | 
| driven by the ghouls of fear. | 
| Refuge for unspoken longing (s), | 
| we are not quite ready for this world…- | 
| in silent slumber of a darker safety…- | 
| into my mother’s womb I want to return. |