Muistijäljet [English translation]

The voices of the city

Have already died away

Remained

Only sherds

Painted on the face

Are the sings of beauty

But memory traces

Are not obscured under it

CHORUS:

::In your hand

Is the world

Where I was made from glass

Even so we get always something as a present

Uo-ooo

Not allowed to watch the hell

Because it will watch back

Always gets something in return::

Iron is cold

Against the cheek

After your hands

Bloodshot skin

Just like branded (with branding iron)

I am to my eyes

You are the flames to me

I'm petrol

X2

In your hand

Is the world

Where I was made from glass

Even so we get always something as a present

Uo-ooo

Not allowed to watch the hell

Because it will watch back

Always gets something in return::