(The stagnant pool,
Like a drowned coffin,
Still as a deceased heart,
Haunting the ghost of the noble crusader,
Who recalls pellucid ice clutching the aching twigs,
Never melting,
Never a drop to disturb stagnation.
Oh they say I'll never win
You'll always get beat
And like a drop of blood from the Devil's tap
I'm dragging the crusader behind
Slips purposely down the black hole back to hell
Steps purposely down the black hole back to hell

INVIA LE CORREZIONI