When I will finally pass away and all the crows will find me dead, celebrating and fighting for my flesh, hope I'll turn out to be alive. No Christ to banish me to hell, no limbo, no golden cell. No saints shall ask me for my sins, no saints will be weighing my sins on my eternal day. A wave bouncing on the borders of time. I'll wave to all the foolish beliefs goodbye. Finally reaching through the daze this hand that I've known for long: this soul that could bear no name... a lullaby I've always sung.
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