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Crouching on the floor, bathed in torment
You stand there in front of closed doors
Fallen victim in the spirit of confusion
Life plays the judge for the moment
The attempt seems pointless escape
the bars in the head and nothing in front of the eyes
the wings are broken - all the feathers have been torn out
a breath seems endless
this place as the last chance
but it will he goes to the grave
this room of the gravediggers
anesthesia is injected once again
lives out impassively
bed gently and shallowly, wrapped in white sheets
seems The beauty of the moment is within your grasp
The inner demon now asks you to dance in the rubble
and behind high walls
A piece of freedom for the moment
The way out seems chosen
extinguishes the semblance of being