and insted of eyes we will be born with blindfolds
and from my mouth will flee a song
with this strange need of not to belong
just copy whatever is wrong
In a cage of perfect gold
hope in tongue, golden song
with an innate appetite
to be one of yours
to be just one of yours
and try everything not to be alone
and try everything to be alone
(Incise, open wide from the inside
cast out, see what is still left of life
Secure for me the status of a prime suspect
Tying the hands of a blindman
Teaching the colours to a blindman
ask him to react)
a natural will
of being artificial
Tomorrow i will wake up
into Decadance
with elegance"
by Moonspell
Dekadance (adaptado)
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