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WHISPERS UNDER THE COFFIN LID

God, how numb skull thy people are!
How soft arms you fill thy hands with
Thy lost wars I pin up in the crown
I fold it, I place it on my temples

I got reasons not to look at my hands
I got reasons not to watch whatís behind me
I am just, I judge thee objectively
I donít waste words but with my deed

I defend myself now

Every dignified man will get a blow
Every child will be put in misleading rows

I defend myself now

Everyone breathless will fall into each otherís arms
Thy kingdom, thy plebs will bow
Iíll look at them, blood will flow, Iíll give godless body
Iíll look at them, god-enraged, finishing off will begin

And thus each and every of them shanít live
But I wonít hit, yet thy people gladly, lord
God-fearing, timorous, loves slaughter
To with blood mark the card,
To present devotion





   
   
   
   


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