Inhale this sweet parfume Of acid Sulphur Spit yourdespair In humiliating joy Sweat from all your pores Burnt by the anger He's in you, he's everywhere He stabs you where it hurts He's the creator, the only one He's back to never leave again What would the spirit Be if it could burn? Evaporating in an Asphyxiating atmosphere Polluted by the shockwaves Of its predecessors Contaminated by a disease Which has only just begun Disappointed, speechless Copses are falling one by one A psychic desolation storm is on its way Deserters are legions, Digging their graves Lay down, close your eyes Sprawl in your insane certainty You ain't pleading anyone's cause A few scraps of memories... Your cosmic rictus greets him He dominates you with his Dictorial behaviour You offer all your light to his darkness He drowns you in eternal Sadness and locks you away What would the soul be if it could shine? Free from all its virtual sins Like a flame spreading through a shadowy passage Lost to his sight of pixelated memories