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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2006-06-21 | [Text in der Originalsprache: english] |
rising from the dust
carved down by centuries of thought transformed now into red ash I swim in the blood of my ancestors the books are steps towards a higher, better place an illusion for fanatics el jihad kick us forward and from the running horses we throw arrows with not mercy cursing the infidels scorpions have invaded the altars the mummy is rising again, smiling with an innocent look our world is coming to an end but what do we care, forging gold inside our blindness kings over ideas and nothing else lords of the mind only a sad story in the end the devil is nothing but a bad fairytale we are sitting around a camp fire here, at the end of the world from the fortunate lords of the books we became now the infamous lords of nothingness...
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