I'm calling you to me. Hear my words in yout mind. Hear me speak without tunes. From the endless worlds of fire. . I have found you. I'm now the tormentor of your soul.
[Lyrics by Graav]. . In this cold night. I feel my soul life again. when i think of the world. that i left beyond this dark side. . The true evil against humans.
(hebrew singing). . I awake in this darkened room. Strange vision of the sacred land. The call of this city is getting clearer. Appealing to me from beyond the sands.
Turn the sail after the wind, you take the easy way out.. Make the trend to your believe, a follower in all needs.. Your lack of independence shows your real face, a wannabe..
Upon these vile remains of Christ. I hold the lance that pierced the fool. His true meaning withheld in a shroud of lies. Recite nine times the antique rite.
You've got to boost your mind. Just don't leave behind. Your right to freedom. - seek all the answers. . Don't throw away. Your biggest chance. To find a life to live.
Et blekt avdagsleite. Famler hen, til nattvart himmel. Vandring hjem, til nattsvart himmel. Vandring hjem I eismal. Under skumringens tidligste stjerne.
Unfortunate the hoax. that you are not immune. For if beauty was hurt. Like children naked and misused. We would aspire towards. States of disturbed emotions.
Final Anaesthetic. From an outlaw medic. Permanent anaesthesia. Case of Euthanasia. Terminally ill. Making your will. . Meet your destiny. Die with dignity.
You say we're living in the land of the free. The price is poison for the earth and the sea. Liberty and justice are the American way. But there's crime in the streets where the children play.
A failed marriage left the mother to care. Love is gone but the kid s are still there. A broken home has become commonplace. The look of anguish on the child s face.
Fighting seems so in vain. Weakened by my own brain. Mindless torture blackening my thoughts. I'm flying away to my deepest decay. I'm falling through the black hole.
The Rulers Of The Darkness Of This World. Unmasked Bringing Their Offers To Man. A Terrible Reality Is Knocking On Your Door. Threathening To Destroy Your Life Forevermore.
[Lyrics : RMS Hreidmarr / November 1998]. . Vous avez souille notre sanctuaire. Par vos paroles et vos actes. Dawn of a lost glory. Golden sign and shadow of mine.
[Lyrics : RMS Hreidmarr / April 1999]. . He's waiting semi-naked. His make-up makes him look like you slut. I'm not sure to be prepared. And he's shouting and smiling and laughing too.
[Lyrics : RMS Hreidmarr / April 1999]. . I will die tonite for the second time. I must die tonite. I could taste the wine, but it's too late. I'll burn with pride.
Acosado sin piedad. Y no puedo respirar. Tengo miedo del futuro. Soy un cobarde. . Se que no tengo nada que hacer. Solamente tus nimos. Mantienen viva mi esperanza..
Elftes Kapitel. . Der Werkelmann kauert einsam vor dem Totenschrein des Mdchens (im Prinzessinnenkleid). Er schiebt den Deckel von der Totenlade und blickt gebannt auf den starren Kindsleib, der in ein feines Leinentuch gewickelt ist und dem Antlitz einer kindlichen Dirne entspricht. Der Kopf des Kindes wurde behutsam balsamiert, die weich gezeichneten Lippen mit rotem Lippenstift beschmiert. Wie ein eben verstorbenes Mdchen blickt dieses zarte Geschpf aus der fauligen Gruft, die kugeligen Augen weit geffnet. Es ist das schnste Geschpf, das Kezman auf seinem Totenacker beherbergt. Vllig irr und bezaubert von der grazilen Statur der Leiche beginnt der Werkelmann die Tote zu kssen. Als der Gestank des toten Fleischs eine Dohle anlockt, verliert er die Fassung..
we die alte Juche allein jum Himmel weht,. Dort in Maldern, Jaum an Joumen, sei das Mandern,. Sei das Traumen unverwehrt und ungestset.. Und we im Seisengrunde eingeklemmit der Slub,.
Siebzehntes Kapitel. . Der Werkelmann liegt in seiner Kiste und flennt. Seelenwund und demtig versucht der verhrmte Spielmann, sich seine eigenen Knochen zu brechen. Er hat begriffen, dass sich der Tod nur schwer ein Schnippchen schlagen lsst, aber an ihm hngt wie ein giftiger Stachel, der ihn von den boshaften Launen Kezmans abhngig macht. "Die graue Welt macht keine Freude mehr, der Tod macht mir das Leben schwer", jammert das Gerippe in die ruhige Oktobernacht..