He screams in his own puddle He lies in his deathbed As his broken face looks straight into me The wind comes swift through The violins start to sound the waterfalls as I see my grasp to life unchain As i outstretch my hand To the wuonded brother And even know what you mean to me I rub my eyes so i can't see 'Cause when to far away To perceive I stand Here by my side Here by my hand The arid dry grossness in me Remains still Remains still, still I try to keep my eyes from closing But i speak disregarding The possible annhilation Of entire cities Where brothers turn to numbers We are all just pawns in a game And after all Even here the material Is the same This artwork of thick drapery rests on a white altar, a white altar Our portarit is sorrounded by The figure of an elder in a black coffin Writing her own epitaph On these jagged rocks lost children Point the fingers to blame eachother To blame eachother And from the light comes the next Always stuck sorrounded by the same walls He walks down that same old road, road And falls in that same old hole