The Devil's Instrument
Thoughts are spinning their inescapable threads
Transforming us cruelly into marionettes
Everything I feel is pain
And the Devil holds us in his hands
Buried desperately in my chest
A rose for myself and a rose for the dead
A serenade of tears, lifelessly
We feel the beat, though no orchestra is there to be seen
I am you, I am you - you are me
What I am, what are you - who are we?
What is truth and what is lie
Who are you and what am I?
In a cradle of mercy we are sleeping
The half-sleep of oblivion
No holy water could wash away our faults
Nor do benediction purify our unclean souls
The gates remain locked
For the wingless children of wrath
So long ago splintered and trodden down
Us children of glass
Please, my Lord, extinguish the light
The illumination hurts my eyes
My choice was wrong, so wrong
Truly everything is pain
We are crying with wolves
Like stone we are sleeping with the dead
Soon we'll be gone and you're left
The instrument