Upon your knees The unseen shackles apparent A millstone around the neck Iron chains upon your shoulders Bind you to insidious simulacrum To doctrines unfounded
I reach down to you
There are no chains No shackles But our pained voices resonate Never to be heard
My strength not enough To wrench pious knees from the wooden floor
In unreality The prison is real The bars are as iron And the walls as concrete
For the architect lives And he is you
The dictator lives And his statue bears your chisel marks Self-appointed guardian Within the crumbling cerebral prison The skies within reach But they burn at the touch
Light pirouettes across the stone floors Of your damp sanctuary But the eyes of the votary too weak And unwilling to see
The crimes are real And the sin churns within
This cell is where you belong All seeing eyes burn your flesh Deep into the night There is no relief
But this is needed I am impure
Yet in the oppression of iron and stone Solace is found trickling down the cold walls The skies beyond are so empty The trees and mountains so hollow and thoughtless The distances between so vast and remote The path beyond these screaming walls Is winding and overgrown Without guidance I shall lose my way
Here I stay Here I want to stay Here I must stayTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.