I am changing into your eyes.
I am changing - give my palms strength. REPEAT
CHORUS: I am changing into your eyes.
Not to exist I desire - in blood - to cool my palms.
The first flowers of loneliness wither.
Dead faces, dead colors.
Among dreams of nothingness,
In the middle of the night.
In dust, I fold forehead bow.
For thoughts, spirit flight of falcon.
Complaint sound raises a moribund groan.
And laughter. And cry. In tear.
Behind cemetery gate of secret record.
The cold cards are the empty graves.
Crosses of word - a black letter.
Transformation echo fill the space.
...and then eye, what with cold of steel
Touches the truths - no fire - no water...
...when body I will stand myself up
Under trembling palms...
CHORUS
Hear from distance
Gentle tone of my transformation.
Feel, in this grey hour, pulse of bell.
...rip my skin... REPEAT
Oh, away! Go away! Paupers’ spirit!
Paupers of thoughts, caricature of freedom.
Poison of hymn already more I will not accept.
On the body altar, I will give my homage.
Sacrifice, what is desirous caress of thoughts.
In inflected shoulders my rapture.
Will be look through itself in tears of bitterness.
Angels - demons - living just once.
CHORUS
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