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Rise, bloodbath
Die, sickness
Pride, golden
Crime, scarlet

The serum of thee
Pours up as to flee
Wishes to spread his wings
Cut your rusty strings

Relax your values
Smash your idols
Beat the worm
From above you’ll see

Crush, ashes
Blaze, over
Love yourself
World empty

“Watch them clamber these swift monkeys.
They clamber over one another, and thus drag one another into the mud and the depht.
They all want to get the throne that is their madness, as if happiness sat on the throne.
Mad they all appear to me, clambering monkeys, and overardent foul smells their idol,
foul they smell to me, alltoghether these idolators”.

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