Sentence
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The train runs on it's track through the night of fear,
Your cry of despair makes me fly towards your burrow;
To lick your wounds and to drive out your nightmare,
But who will cure my injuries? Who will be my nurse?
The fifth trumpet blows: the falling star carries the key,
To open the underground, the black pit appears;
A mist of locusts with the order to wound the sinners,
Will hurt you and for one season you will agonize.
The tick-tock of the seconds ring loudly in my ears,
The phone doesn't ring. I ran out of cigarettes;
I won't hear your voice anymore,
To get rid of your chains of false illusions.
Under the next blow the four death angels break free,
Carrying destruction an holocaust;
I have to take the book from the fire's hands:
"Your still have a long way, my friend!"
I'm waiting for the Best to rise from the underground,
The great foe, my greatest ally:
I will merge with him, we will become one,
To slip into your mind and sentence you!
I remember winter of distant '88,
You angel loomed up in front of that cup of coffee,
The verdict is established,
The sentence is going to fulfill,
I won over you, I killed you...
But I killed myself too.
The last trumpet is sweet like honey,
The choirs announce the coming of the Lord;
I have to escape into the darkest part of the universe.
I'm your fallen angel: I am the Antichrist!
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