Mere flesh and bones, and no more sense.
You’re in your fight for life and cross.
And once again, the death blockade
Rejoices in the dance of loss.
My only friend, I’m waiting here
For when you come as the night falls.
I’m on the other side of the hill
Where a snake with a billion faces crawls.
You know, it’s not that good in here.
These faces read me day and night.
Their sneaky gaze rests on my skin,
And on my cross, and on my fight.
The river where my blood flows out
It is not that crystal-clear, they say.
But I’m still here, my friend, although
My grief is now in its third May.
'cause this is what our hill is like,
Not much is left, beyond two sides.
The road’s been wrecked by devil’s will,
The world agreed to it, besides.
'cause this is what the hill is like,
It’s pretty much two-option pick.
Whatever happens, don’t you die.
I beg you, darling. One more week.
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