And laughing at the chains I’m the first one
Who voluntarily submits to her will
Because this love blooms in humiliation
And in self-mutilation I cannot express
Because her filthy womb demands a greater sacrifice
Then a handful of silver coins
Then a handful of everything
In effable pain I'm squeezing in my hands
My putrid brain though
There is not enough strength
To extract out of it just another poisonous drop
Which may infect at least one additional life
With cracking white shell upon my face
Each neuron crumbles and each cell withers
I do not know myself anymore
Neither my own memories
I see only fingerprints, horror and ashes
I see cut face which fragments I collect
And 'cause I'm unable to cut with them a throat of mine (or the throats of best others)
Again I'm throwing them aside
I scrape a mask from my face
A wreath of pink slices of dead meat
Revealing all the bruises
Scars and abscesses depicting a map of my anatomy
And I a dead of the world won't tell you anything beyond the ruin of my life
The ruin of my life!
