Wretched stench of the curious. Lingering, yearning for freedom. I lived a thousand winters, subconsciously. A martyr. An ember in the wind. I need the young, I need the old, Established virtues, be gone. My flesh is weak, my wits are sharp. No mercy, no surrender Oblivious puppets shall sing and dance. My silver rattles their purses Man made religion becomes my slave It does my bidding with loyalty I need the young, I need the old, Established virtues, be gone. My flesh is weak, my wits are sharp. No mercy, no surrender Out of obscurity, Into the light The herds, silent with awe. Gifts of thoughts gushing from the skies Imprisoned, no more I'll flood the minds of masses with new beliefs Radical scapegoats for main course. Words from the shadows becoming flesh Rotting at the source. Прекрасное далеко, Не будь ко мне жестоко, Не будь ко мне жестоко, Жестоко не будь. От чистого истока, В прекрасное далеко, В прекрасное далеко, Я начинаю путь.