Sybir

Locomotive is running inside the mist

The forest receives it’s smoking bit

Crouch into carriage, I feel the forward

And my destination, drawing to the shroud

Windows reflect, this quiet…

Grievances is moving, along the mystic rail

Unfaithful apostle is stays morbidly near

But I can’t feel the stroke, I’m covered by loneliness.

Triumphant, my preacher, is calling to his mass

And slowly, dying children, are coming to your black

Cathedral burns in tears.

Redemption for all sinner lost in time.

Windows reflect, this quiet…

The storm, is sleeping, between the wood

Running, to grave…my funeral

Candle are waiting…the flame of soul

I’m ready for unclosed the sacred door

And for, my evil, one thousand, candle…are shine.

Grievances is moving, along the mystic rail

Unfaithful apostle is stays morbidly near

But I can’t feel the stroke, I’m covered by loneliness.

Every dump brick the sinner corps

Every out candle, sinner lair

Candle are waiting…the flame of soul

I’m ready for the stroke of mortal bell

Window reflect, this quiet

The storm, is sleeping, between the wood

Running, to grave…my funeral

Candle are waiting…the flame of soul

I’m ready for the stroke of mortal bell

Pierce my hand, whit ancient nail

My stigmata they want to blade

And for, my evil, one thousand, candle…are shine.