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2. LAST DAY OF SODOMA I offered you my world to have, my kingdom to explore I gave you warmth and shelter against the raging snow My dark love was rejected, too bad you could not see That love lasts eternally and we were ment to be Your tears cannot move me, I am delighted by your cries As blood runs down from your chest, I am smiling as you die Though my eyes are red and wet, this is my greatest thrill If I cannot have you then no-one ever will I welcome you home one last time To greet you goodbye with a knife in my hand Steel so sharp against tender flesh River of blood flowing down her chest Metal blade carving up her skin As one life ends a new one begins Anger of Cain raging in my head Again and again, she is soon to be dead Tears in her eyes, I hope she can hear my "goodbye, you have nothing to fear" 3. EXPULSION Once so mighty I was aeons ago I would make thunder roar and lava flow Times do pass, moments do wither and fade Man do forget the memories of my glorious days Forever to live in purgatory's darkness Blend in with the low-life among this putrid mess Some praise my name, they do not know I changed it millennia ago Pestillence will spread across Earth Death to the first set to birth Snow-covered the ground shall remain As yet another life I do reclaim Fire from the ground to the sky No place to hide, nowhere in safety to lie Expelled again, myself to blame Now I am never to return from whence I came 4. EPISTEL NR. 30: DRICK UR DITT GLAS [Music and Lyrics by Carl Michael Bellman (1740-1795)] Drick ur ditt glas, se doden pa dig vantar, slipar sitt svard och vid din troskel star. Bliv ej forskrackt, han blott pa gravdorn glantar, slar den igen, kanske an pa ett ar. Movitz, din lungsot den drar dig i graven. Knapp nu oktaven: stam dina strangar, sjung om livets var! Himmel, du dor, din hosta mig forskracker; tomhet och klang, inalvorna ge ljud; tungan ar vit, det radda hjartat klacker, mjuk som en svamp ar sena, marg och hud. Andas! - Fy tusan, vad dunst ur din aska! Lan mig din flaska! Movitz, gutar! Skal! Sjung om vinets gud! Na sa gutar! Dig Bacchus avsked bjuder, fran Frojas tron du sista vinken far. Omt till dess lov det lilla blodet sjuder, som nu med vald ur dina adror gar. Sjung, las och glom, tank, begrat och begrunda! Skull' du astunda annu en falsup? Vill du do? - Nej, gutar!  paroles ajoutées par Bourrin - Modifier ces paroles |  |
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