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*** Autor textu: O.A.Myrholt
The promised land of joy leads me quite a chase
Shaping the vortex moonshine into another daemon aeon, aeon
Caught in a crossfire of lust, a dream of strange ambient fusion
Dying in the valley of death,
As in the essence of the Shakespearian Conclusion
As I dream of that night, dazzled by its charm
And as I dream of you nestled here in my arms
It's only when I weep, only when I reach to touch you
It's only when I nourish the (ultimate) paranoid grandeur
It's only when the venereal notion unfolds
I see more devils than vast hell can hold
You breathe in sharply when I bid (you) to join the trance
To wheresoever the (polychrome) devils may dance
The gleaming utopia (suddenly) casting shadows of sadness
And there is beauty in all its madness
When I come down it seems to me, that I am desecration
And touching you seems like a revelation...
