My vision of this world
Held so dearly in my mind
Shattered like this young man's skull
Along the banks of the Rhine.
May I curse god and die?
For death would be a relief
But would it vindicate or shame me
In my rampant unbelief?
May I curse god and survive,
Or would lightning strike me to the ground?
I would gladly feel its burn on my face
If then I could see my Jehovah come down
Faire le descente
No witch has ever died
No demon ever slept too deep
All can be brought back
To herd unfortunate sheep
No witch has ever died
No nightmare ever truly sleeps
There is no such thing as death
Except for the mortal sheep
The mud is in my wounds,
My blood is in the ground
From dust I was born
Oh how poetically we are bound
May I curse god and die?
For death would be a relief
But would it vindicate or shame me
In my rampant unbelief?
May I curse god and survive,
Or would lightning strike me to the ground?
I would gladly feel its burn on my face
If then I could see my Jehovah come down

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