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!