Из альбома: Skandinavisk Misantropi
Like Rimbaud
I licked the venom from
The Mother's cunt
Fingertips embrace the swollen wound
That has become my soul
A shady tree
And a drunken monk
A vivid stroke
And a dying breath
I cast the bones of red dogs
Gnawing at my impending doom
On a shore, on a boat, in life
Rectify the dreams of my past
In the presence of absence
To deliver the pain of the universe
The heart, the disintegration
I have nothing more to say
I washed my hands with tears
She'd by a thousand harlots
Dim, darkness, so in vain
Redefines beauty and shattered hopes
Somehow I detected the lies
The worms, the cost of dreams
And In Between Days the Nothingness
The soul of something real
I have nothing more to say