To open, and to close, and to start my
cursed existence all over again
means to stab pain in me pumped out
from my inner world
my former self in all its perfect past,
shaking fleetingly and insatiably.
Wise silence brought by the night,
have or haven't I samurai blood?
There's not even, not even, an aftertaste.
Bearing the halberd of a grave destiny,
almost asleep under your mystery.
Whose,
Whose empire is this?
And I take heart, Oh God, if you can hear my voice,
my last hope.
Oh no, the heaven I ask for is another heaven.
No! The man that I have been and am
wants more light and less combat.
(No, no, I am not afraid; I am a bit lost.)
Ah,ah,ah,ah,ah...
To open, and to close, and to start all over,
and to not be a foreigner means wanting to breathe again.
Wise silence brought by the night,
have or haven't I samurai blood?
There's not even, not even, an aftertaste.
Bearing the halberd of a grave destiny,
almost asleep under your mystery.
Whose,
Whose empire is this?
And I take heart, Oh God, if you can hear my voice,
my last hope.
Oh no, the heaven I ask for is another heaven.
No! The man that I have been and am
wants more light and less combat.
(No, no, I am not afraid; I am a bit lost.)
Wise silence brought by the night...
Wise silence brought by the night,
have or haven't I samurai blood?
Bearing the halberd of a grave destiny,
almost asleep under your mystery...
Bearing the halberd of a grave destiny,
almost asleep under your mystery...