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It's raining birds, seagulls, nightingales
They don't sing, they stink, feathers glow in the dark
Black clouds thicken, your shutters won't help
No one to answer your prayers, Lord of Flies sends his regards
What doesn't kill you makes you strive for death
What doesn't wound you makes you cut your wrists
Fear not the sickness that harms your body
This one will leave you in perfect shape
This is the virus that kills illusions
Fatal disease that opens the open cage
Be careful what you wish for pitiful knowledge junkies
Be careful what you pray for your sheep chasing the slaughter
You would have never thrown the dice if you had learnt the rules before
But once you've started the game don't leave the table, don't go home
Because there is no home, the war is on
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