B-mollissa alkava balladi, joka muuttuu heavy rockiksi C#-mollissa.
Rats return from a long, long trip
Traveled through the seven wild seas
The black ulcers in their black furs
Covered under the dirt and fleas
And from their dark wounds green ooze drips
More than half of them have disease
Slowly start to die one by one
Sailors have found the room full of dead bodies
Rats abandon the sinking ship
Wanna flee from the drowning crew
The rats bathe to the nearby dock
In the morning, death has grip on longshoremen too
Cruel death spreading destruction
Draw one more breath to get infection
Cruel death spreading destruction
Door to door, he gets no rejection
Death all through the land
The priest washes his dirty hands
He says: "God has revenge on us all."
"With dance of black rats we shall fall."
Nobody knows how wounds can be healed
Nobody knows the secret cure
Everybody lives in blind faith
That the magic can make their dirty body pure
Death all through the land
The priest washes his dirty hands
He says: "God has revenge on us all."
"With dance of black rats we shall fall." "Music is the poetry of the air." (Richter)
"If music be the food of love, play on." (Shakespeare) |
Peter Spiegelmann