Man-Erg
The killer lives inside me.Yes, I can feel him move.Sometimes he's lightly sleepingin the quiet of his room,but then his eyeswill rise and stare through mine,he'll speak my words and slice my mindinside.Yes, the killer lives.
Angels live inside me,I can feel them smile.Their presence strokes and soothesthe tempest in my mindand their lovecan heal the wounds that I have wrought.They watch me as I go to fall.Well, I know I shall be caughtwhile the angels live.
How can I be free?How can I get help?Am I really me?Am I someone else?
But stalking in my cloistershang the acolytes of gloomand Death's Head throws his cloak intothe corner of my roomand I am doomed.But laughing in my courtyardplay the pranksters of my youthand solemn, waiting Old Manin the gables of the roof:he tells me truth.
I, too, live inside meand very often don't know who I am.I know I'm not a hero.Well, I hope that I'm not damned.I'm just a man,and killers, angels, all are thesedictators, saviours, refugeesin war and peaceas long as Man lives...
I'm just a man,and killers, angels, all are thesedictators, saviours, refugees…