Testo di The Funeral

Blood seethed with anger, counting days and nights Leather over the body, bracelets for bravery Allienated feelings, locked up with alcohol Head driven by the motor roar He was always catched in the act with lust He always had fear in his eyes But still he was blaspheming Sometimes he even wept with a bottle on the hand There was no day, there was no night He always the same or without lust His pleasures and his vacations side by side He burned by hatred with his family's insults Sometimes he slept with the dogs For personal outburst Laments as poetry He's always aware like a beast! There was no day, there was no night He was the same with or without lust No tragedy traces then came the day With that certain everybody has It's arrived The day of his Death Souls come, souls go With all their Lust in the head Then the motor ceases the roar And his life pulse too But he'll be always in our memory