The silence of the graves is not silent at all:
Millions of the dead are crying in their graves,
But no-one can hear them ... No-one...
Except for the dead themselves.
Sleep ... Sleep is the brother of death,
So lie down beside me in the coldness of the grave,
Let these dead armsembrace you... Fatal and forever.
Stalk "the night", if you wish
With your foolish crucifix and garlic-chain,
If you find our graves we won't be there
Thousands of places for us to go.
And every night
"the feast of blood is about to begin !"
We are cursed we know but who cares.
And when the last candle is fading slow
Then it's time for us to go.
Millions of the dead are crying in their graves,
But no-one can hear them ... No-one...
Except for the dead themselves.
Sleep ... Sleep is the brother of death,
So lie down beside me in the coldness of the grave,
Let these dead armsembrace you... Fatal and forever.
Stalk "the night", if you wish
With your foolish crucifix and garlic-chain,
If you find our graves we won't be there
Thousands of places for us to go.
And every night
"the feast of blood is about to begin !"
We are cursed we know but who cares.
And when the last candle is fading slow
Then it's time for us to go.