Besedila: Dark Reality. Blossom Of Mourning. In The Cathedral.

Sinful rain bathing this narrow square soaking my vein, infolding my stare
Yes, they are goading me... as if shame will survive me
An old woman's knees kissing the tiles spirits lie broken, salvation is ice
Little by little, darkness is spreading
I've lost all ny bearings, need some accomplice
My behaviour is cursed, I drown in this dirt days once composed on the alert
drowning in guilt, drowning in dirt... and still insight is far away
In the cathedral, peeling my fear, in the cathedral, dirt even here
athirst for comprehension, my soul can't stop it's depredation
...as if shame will survive me