"I shall yet praise Thee upon the Harp O Satan, my God
as Thou dwell in me and I dwell in Thee (Now and forever)
I shall yet beckon the fire that abandoned the Genesis
and makes a virtue of any kind of repellings to be born
I shall beckon that fire to be in on my heart and on my lips
that I may worthily and fittingly proclaim this Gospel"
A black wall full of faces speaking with glances
Gather ye broken legs around the burning light
Mad men they are, filthy and bleeding hands,
turns into yellow gold in the dialogue between...
O stench of prison! O waters below!
A star within star, Sanat k**ara
Even till the gates are open, like breathing shadows
and the dead bodies are chanting, forevermore
O stench of prison! O waters below!
A star within star, Sanat k**ara
Even till the crying, filthy and bleeding hands,
turns into yellow gold of two worlds
I see Temple, and I am there; thus I am the very Temple, I am the temple
I shall yet praise Thee upon the Harp, O Satan, our God
Mad men they are, filthy and bleeding hands,
turns into yellow gold in the dialogue between the two worlds
O stench of prison, O waters below, a star within star
I see Temple, and I am there; and thus I am the very same Temple
I shall yet praise Thee upon the Harp, O Satan, our God
as Thou dwell in me and I dwell in Thee (Now and forever)
I shall yet beckon the fire that abandoned the Genesis
and makes a virtue of any kind of repellings to be born
I shall beckon that fire to be in on my heart and on my lips
that I may worthily and fittingly proclaim this Gospel"
A black wall full of faces speaking with glances
Gather ye broken legs around the burning light
Mad men they are, filthy and bleeding hands,
turns into yellow gold in the dialogue between...
O stench of prison! O waters below!
A star within star, Sanat k**ara
Even till the gates are open, like breathing shadows
and the dead bodies are chanting, forevermore
O stench of prison! O waters below!
A star within star, Sanat k**ara
Even till the crying, filthy and bleeding hands,
turns into yellow gold of two worlds
I see Temple, and I am there; thus I am the very Temple, I am the temple
I shall yet praise Thee upon the Harp, O Satan, our God
Mad men they are, filthy and bleeding hands,
turns into yellow gold in the dialogue between the two worlds
O stench of prison, O waters below, a star within star
I see Temple, and I am there; and thus I am the very same Temple
I shall yet praise Thee upon the Harp, O Satan, our God