Every defeat's a little death.
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It's a disaster for the weak,
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but for me it's just a challenge,
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a passage to another me.
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And therefore, rouged with blood and ashes,
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I'm singing on my way to hell,
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I'm dancing toward Golgatha,
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I'm guided by an inner knell.
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There are many shades of black
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and that I use the signs you've chosen,
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that I'm talking in your tongue,
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doesn't mean that you're my friend.
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I don't want your fucking pity,
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'cause one gets it for a song,
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but your jealousy honours me,
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for which I`ve been working hard and long.
|
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From a silent Yearning dark
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a secret, mighty spell is born.
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Beneath a red sky burning cold
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from my ashes I will rise.
|
|
-----------------
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From A Silent Yearning Dark
|
| Gardens Of Gehenna |
