As the man I am, I dislike
More purities and feelings send
Into the extacy I hate
Nobody controls me
Maybe it’s because nobody wants to
Anyway
They watch the terror
In a maze full of gray we shall rest
Incomplete, fictive mirror
Enchanting the way, I do at my best
When a man disconnects, he will lie
A tale telling meyhem inquiries leading
The poor suckers brain
I’m one of those men
But hey then again: Who’s to say
Grey is coming, a broken frame
On the cross, my mirror
Unattended my body decays
A future loss, aching nearer
Soon I’ll meet the boss
[The band is talking:
— Der var et eller andet, jeg syntes der var et eller andet med…
jeg spillede helt ved siden af, jeg tunkte kun pҐ den dukke der
— tihi
— Jeg syn… lagde du ikke m¦rke til hvor mange riffs jeg spillede forkert?
— Jojo
which translates to something like:
— There was something, I thought there was something about… I was
playing all wrong… I was only thinking about that doll, you know
— (laughing) Teehee
— I thin… Didn’t you notice how many riffs I played wrong?
— Yeah, sure]