Pallid Hands

I saw a lover in those shadows
 a fusion in the wake of death
 that took its rear
 in tracks of sanctity
 like bodies crushed
 in piercing light
 ♪
 For we are theirs, and in its distance
 there is a concord that demands
 even the slightest of all ventures
 to shed the world
 and go along
 Four pallid hands
 on a wounded back
 Your shrines are open eyes
 Formed in the junction of disruption
 In trembling archs of bleeding doves
 By pallid hands of inner murder
 caressing my cheek,
 with profound smiles
 Four pallid hands
 on a wounded back
 Your shrines are open eyes
 in an empty room
 ♪
 When the chord of wound resounds
 in everything
 and the corpses turn inside
 ♪
 I know who comes
 For a wounded back
 Take the pallid hand
 We are destroyed
 ♪
 Four pallid hands
 on a wounded back
 Your shrines are our open eyes
 in an empty room
 When the chord of wound resounds
 in everything
 and the corpses turn inside
 I know that he comes