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1901

de Pink Turns Blue

Drawn into myself
Into the maw of hell
Rot and fermentation
I’m facing through

Corpses hang around
Gazing somewhere about
Crying into the world
It’s dying

Candles burn on easter night
All are bearing his damned sign
They are howling
Howling

He’s the one who is to come
Black air’s smelling from his blood
I’ll receive him with a kiss
To be one of his

On celebration’s day

In the end we’re eaten all
I will rise and they will fall
Seven trumpets I can hear
I’m sinking

This is how it feels to die
No one could escape his crime
Just cry
Cry
On celebration’s day

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