What's that voice whispering from the dark?
Hiding the face covered with dirt
The occasionally glaring shadow
Carrying the sound that warns
So hang the rusty bell from my neck
And clear the way, my path, you maggots
Not like I also like the eye contact
I already have one soul sucked up
Raised by the breast of a crippled woman
The denied existence with the legacy leftover
The language that is spoken
Could never do any harm
The attention that's denied
Saved by the power of inscription
Raised by the breast of a crippled woman
The denied existence with the legacy leftover
Living by the night
Giving to the light
The end is always a good way to create a beginning
After the face standing out from the crowd
That’s good enough only to scare the birds away
From the king laying on the ground
Raised by the breast of a crippled woman
The denied existence with the legacy leftover
Living by the night
Giving to the light
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