hurry my steeds chased by the wind across the crystal meadows nobody will hear the piano of melancholy the music is dancing in my heart in the midst of the stillness and the storm
when the past closes my feelings in the ice-chains I will rise the mirror of my visions above the thoughts to steal merciless the flower of the gods which they give away falsely and the blast of magic and the blackness of sin will undermine my scarlet face when the wind mutter dreadful you will feel my kiss when the wind blows into the horns you will feel the flames of blazing blood because only I am the god in my secret garden
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