I see swastikas, hammers with sickles Fields of wild flowers, assassins and cripples I will stab you with all my empty hours And lay for you wreaths of dead flowers I will stab you with a flag and a cause Now a veil for whores I will stab you with ideals long spent And a conscience that's bent I will drown you in the lakes of my tears Some as shallow as hope, some as deep as my fears I will bury you in Failure's fields Where I sprang from and where I belong On my horizon I see a shimmering light As sure as the night I walk on black sands towards a sea of ice My fate is inscribed on the blade of a knife Of a knife On the blade of a knife