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As we are laying on a thorns bed
and don't feel anything
we know this sick world will lead us to our own end
but still we ask for pain
And we're craving for, craving for, craving...
for loss
And we're craving for, craving for, craving...
for loss

As we are praying with folded hands
and just act the same
from the seeds we've sown, we fear our bitter end

But still we ask for pain
still we ask for pain

Lick the poison, reject the remedy
rotting craveness is our fair legacy
so that finally perish our fake beauty

Sill we ask for pain
still we ask for pain

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