Self-reflection between black lines
The torn drawing of a resurrected man
Mirror mirror, please show me another face
Ritual and failure
A heavy crown, the head hangs low
Oblivious king among the all-seeing eyes of God
Behind a veil, isolated from the world outside
I see myself, an empty shell in black and white
Ritual and failure
Lethargic light and the all devouring monochrome sky
Cloud castles rain cocaine to speed up the cycle of life
And a golden spoon full of silence
I feed the canvas with our dearest stylistic device
No one shall speak, no one shall weep
Frameless, dust to dust
My unsuspecting brushstroke, your heretic lamenting sword
When bloody wine and tears flow into another tragic chord
Oh Lord, tell me, how can I be your chosen one?
I’m always trying to be someone else
Oh Lord, tell me, am I still your little lovable son?
My dear Father, don’t be disappointed about my trivial way of life
Maybe someday you can tell me who I am
Self-reflection between white lines
The void and a sleepless weary heart
Mirror mirror, please show me another face
Ritual and failure
A golden spoon full of silence
Maybe someday we will find us
Yet still I carry the weight of your world
In stigmata hands, forever and ever
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