Summer has died. Cold long winter is here Blessed by grey clouds from the yearning skies I walk endlessly through this bleak landscape A mental graveyard before my drunken eyes There I discover the trinity of ugliness The shapes of naked banshees, surreal Stumbling and tumbling, slow on my feet The smell of frozen grass hits me relentlessly A flash clasps me as I'm falling to the ground The final mark of demise is an epitaph for pigs I wonder as I wander through barren wastes As barren as the very heart in me; "Why should I walk on, why not just lay here?" But the yearning skies are silent - there are no answers A flash clasps me as I'm falling to the ground The final mark of demise is an epitaph for pigs Blood has become the art - it is the shattering Oblivion is my name - remember my name, ad infinitum The lassitude is a companion to the art As we used to dream of halcyon days But somewhere, something went so wrong We all gave pearls to pigs for too long Cold. So cold it has become here My throat is a vast glacier. My limbs are alps At the summit everything is torn and shattered By the endless winter in me