Second two or maybe a day Second two or maybe a day I glance over yellowed pages Touch the scares of your unpure soul I drown in sticky passion of your memory Born from chaos wind of hatred human faces it posses The sand of the sarcophagus of memories blows And every seed is a diamond blade In the tact of their language beats my heart And pass centuries Now I touch the scares of your unpure soul Sometimes death comes at night Sometimes death is silence Sometimes death scares the wind Sometimes death gives birth to the dark Let the show go on Now I touch the scars of your unpure soul In red iris daylight dies Nothing shall escape from me Sometimes death is filled with the blood Sometimes death fades away in fog Sometimes death il like a black storm Sometimes death scares the wind of life Now I touch the scars of your unpure soul Sometimes death is filled with blood Sometimes death fades away in fog Sometimes death is like a black storm Sometimes death has many names