Only few lend a hand, so little can be made
Nowhere I feel safe, nowhere I can hide
This trap one cannot leave, tentacles tight so hard
How much should I give to get a bit of warm?
Never again bring me this bunch of lies, never hug
Like the fly in golden web I'm stuck
Waiting for spiders that shorten this pain
Gone is the light that was caught by my eyes

The tide is coming
All seems to be fallen
Bloodbath's boiling
The ballot was phoney

Old drummer, keep timing
Tho' only few can hear the sound
Dust whirlin', smiles frozen
Nothing will save us now
Brave heroes
Where are you?
Where has your spirit gone?
The zeroes
Come closer
Put wreath on your graves

The tide is coming
All seems to be fallen
Bloodbath's boiling
The ballot was phoney

See also:
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115
115.115
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