The Atmosphere Testo

Mother sin, you know my bent
Responsible for all
That colours the paths
I have gone

A tragedy was torn
From innocence and sorrow
To a region I belong
Where days of trust grown
Inside life
Have not existed for one stand
Not even
Day
Has come.

I may obey.
Path into black.
Raven on my shoulder.
Bow to spiritual.

You who taught me conjuration
In hours of hellish creed;
Fragile, grey-haired picture dead
Why you will pass, and I will sneer.