Оригинален текст
Nailed down, on your prayer stool
As when you will be dead.
Nailde down,
in your burial place dead end
Of your faithful prayers.
Burn those who lead your mind,
Dont'be slave of beliefs,
Blow out te candles of illusions,
Don't make a mess of life.
I'm ending forward,
to the altar of shame
As you ever hope
in this land of tears.
Reconsider your faithful prayers.