Singer: Chancellor GI

Young men, whose shroud became morocco.

Michael takes the tube with silver willow,
And she gives a signal to sit down at the tables.
Gabriel comes out of the water, tailed, like Triton,
With stories about the wonders of what he saw,
Full to the brim and pours his gilded horn,
And drinking, as long as the star hops, it is not to fall down.

When there is thirst for battle, will find the kings,
They make hats with silver branches;
But everyone who fell, arose, and who is killed, resurrected;
How good on earth do not know of the wonders:
Not that would have thrown the farmer, a shovel over the hill -
And neither plow, nor sow, could not since then.

Most be witch all broke floors
But as the full moon will shake off with a broom.
Exploding in the sky, fools, Yes night flight -
Fainted chickens, frightened cattle.

And, believing in evil miracle
Dies Voodoo doll
Die and you poor man,
Your over a year.

My soul trembles
Tired of vague fear;
In the night disturbs heart compressed surf,
And again, the water sings,
And I'm alive when
You slowly become the land,
Crumbly dust.

- Brother, brother
The silence of stone,
Answer me, where is your strength?
Mountain gate
No more, and I
Only left the grief of the grave, yeah!
- I left, and now don't wait;
Stone heart is pounding in my chest -
Mournful memory master
You are now one!

In the sea leaves my heart is like a ship,
In search of a red pepper and, maybe, gold.
In the sea strange I want winter to warm up,
A butterfly to be to stop the pin pinned.

Oh, take me, Oh take me away,
Prophesied a sad end.
Oh, four horses, Oh, four horses,
Famine, death, war and ***ETS!

True to my blade of Toledo steel -
As a cold beam from a blind moon;
Angels answers bear tired
In the silence of the night, their steps are heard.
The angels are on Church boards,
Frown in disgust to my prayers,
But to pray better can not
A bad servant of the Lord Cesare Borgia.

From stories dirty I do not wash:
My sister's husband is home and fratricide...
Everything is not stolen fate-slut -
This is the right sword, but the former glory.

In the past I has won a lot -
Tuscany proud head bowed;
The sun was Golden under the blue sky
My day yesterday, well, what now?

Night goes to heaven in the incense smoke,
Angels from God are the answer.

The saints from the wrath of darken face:
"How dare you, sinner, to come here?!
Satan lived, Satan will die -
That's fun, even if the Pater remembers!"