Not a single step shall be made Nor will this soul come closer or hither To the temples of the world Asking for food and shelter Not one more breath will be taken Nor another heartbeat heard For this false glory And the blind idols of pride And never shall I taste The blinding colours of the light But stand right in-between them With clear vision and sight Place in me, the recievers of thy will To raise the monument Of silence within To shiver alone In darkness and cold Standing naked in the rain that Pours Cleansing this flesh and soul Building thy bleak temple Insert in this flesh the recievers of thy will By the means of hurt and pain Not a single motion shall be made Nor a strive towards The light that stands Offering the rotten fruits of the world Not one more drop of this poisoned water Will be taken Into this dry throat that sings Prayers unto the Lord Starving for his bread Starving for his wine To raise the monument Of sorrow within To tremble and shiver In the darkness and silence Standing alone in the tempest and storm Come now, father, bless thy orphan children