the bleeding heart that aches in love
the moaning soul enchained by weird thirst
awaiting something from somewhere above
the floods of tears, the mourn of lost
come deify illusion breed
and turning blind, come taste this sweetest drug
come reap the pain in beating piece of meat-
i call it this, they call it heart
i love when it's dead
empty and cold
not a lament in my breast
i can tell sand from true gold
life is vain, an endless state of pain...
all kinds of pain...
then jealousy and ecstasy
will cruelly lash with burning whip
so smothering will be the misery
and hate shall come, so bright and deep!
and in the end all strength is gone
these stupefied and devastated fools
will become none and mentally undone
then calm i'll pass sneering stone and cool
i made it all dead
within my breast
within my head on endless quest
for what's not pain, for what's not vain