Оригинален текст
The fallen that dreams suicide,
Takes the needle, instead of the gun,
The victim herself crucifies, can't realize,
Christ is a weapon, that chisels at our lives.
Deconstruction!
The martyr takes his aim and wounds the holy man,
And on the eighth day God made the art of war,
And laughing, planned the end...
Who will tend the garden, when the snake sw*llows the light?
Who will eat the decay, when the worms have lost their sight?
Who will r*pe the weak, when there's nothing left to gain?
Who will till the soil of these barren black remains?
Deconstruction!
Who will lick my wounds, when they take away my speech?
Will you stand in line, while the shepherd hunts his sheep?
Could you see tomorrow, if I took away your eyes?
Can you crawl from under, new age prophecies despise...
Deconstruction!
Deconstruct my reality, and let me slip away...
I am the dark.
Who will tend the garden, when the snake sw*llows the light?
Who will eat the decay, when the worms have lost their sight?
Who will r*pe the weak, when there's nothing left to gain?
Who will till the soil of these barren black remains?
Deconstruction!
Deconstruction!
Our world is in deconstruction...
Our world...