Texty: Dead Can Dance. Black Sun.

Murderer!
Man of fire.

Murderer!
I've seen the eyes of living dead.
It's the same game - survival.
The great mass play a waiting game.
Embalmed, crippled, dying in fear of pain.
All sense of freedom gone.

Black sun in a white world.
Like having a black sun in a white world.

I have a son,
His name is Eden.
It's his birthright,
Beyond estranged time.

Give me sixty-nine years,
Another season in this hell.
It's all sex and death as far as I can tell.

Like Prometheus we are bound,
Chained to this rock of a brave new world,
Our godforsaken lot.
And I feel that's all we've ever needed to know,
'Til worlds end and the seas run cold.

Give me sixty-nine years,
Another season in this hell.
There is sex and death
In mother nature's plans.

Like Prometheus we are bound,
Chained to this rock of a brave new world,
Our godforsaken lot