In cryogenic sleep I lost my sense, I lost my soul
Experiencing craziness has made my heart turn cold
For centuries and more, I've searched my head for perfect words
I'll take my chance or live forever in a world of hurt
Impalement on a tree of thorns is definitely an option
I need the Beast to write my cantos without interruption
The trinity is split, parts roaming back through time and space
And Empathy is to be lured out of its hiding place
I'll face the pain with open mind,
Coz' otherwise I'd die inside
The perfect irony in my life
I know the answer to the future,
Now is to be solved by us
The seven pilgrims of mankind
On the verge of suicide the butchery began
And writting capabilities came back to me again
The disappearance of my muse had ceased with all the killing
The cantos only lived through all the blood the Beast was spilling
My poem bruned, destroyed in desperate screams of misery
And so, i'll find my inspiration on the shining tree
I'll face the pain with open mind,
Coz' otherwise I'd die inside
The perfect irony in my life
I know the answer to the future,
Now is to be solved by us
The seven pilgrims of mankind
"With ashes flying to the sky
I realize the reason why"
