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Sometimes, the wicked ones,
the mortal sting,
I am the only one,
Across the dreary plane.
I am watching,
Across the crucified,
So few are chosen,
I do not die,
horrified.
And seat yourself a ride,
Get out of your denial,
A genius of the night,
And I am watching,
Across the crucified,
So few are chosen,
I do not die.
They creep and crawl inside,
Into the heart of cold,
So dead and paralyzed,
Perversion of the soul.
I am watching,
Across the crucified,
So few are chosen,
I do not die.
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