The Head Of The Worm

Now so much saliva, so little role
So little time and too much to lose
Vinegar polished masks
And poison in the viscera
Puncture the skin of all
Have no blood
And without that red ink
The future is in vain
Yesterday is not but the language to suffer
The jugular is opened in two holes
Through one the wine escapes
For other one the pleasure
For once I felt inside
I don't remember the reason of
But I know I must do… I must do it
(For once I felt growing into your fields…)

The useless fighting with my devils
No more war to learn
As the mallows sleeps in my hair
In my disclosed chest.

And even in the nails grows the hair
And even in the guts cuts the ice.

I thought that I could finally born
That I could deceive the oldness
I begged not to have to return to win
At the head of the worm
Trying to drink me
Blackened mother one day
I will own you.