Jag andas in kall luft | |
andas ut | |
luften expanderar inför mig | |
känner mig försvinna | |
djupt in i mig själv | |
expanderar bortom mina egna gränser | |
in i min eviga förbannelse | |
det eviga tomrummet | |
där jag blivit så kall i sinnet | |
Tankar formas för varje andetag | |
förryckta ideér om existens uppstår | |
det har blivit vardag | |
år för år, tår för tår | |
knäböjd framför altaret öppnas såren | |
döda ryttare rider förbi | |
skuggorna söker vad som finns inuti | |
medan kalla händer greppar tag | |
river i mig, plågar, dödar mig | |
de roper, skriker, kallar på mig | |
Då kan jag inte annat än skratta | |
åt vad de inte kan förstå | |
hur de gör mig till en av de mina | |
[English translation:] | |
[With My Breath] | |
I breathe in cold air | |
I breathe out | |
The air expands in me | |
I feel myself disappear | |
Deep into myself | |
Expanding beyond my own limits | |
Into my immortal curse | |
The never ending emptiness | |
Where I’ve become so cold at mind | |
Thoughts are shaped by every breath | |
Crazy ideas about existence is created | |
It has become weekday | |
Year for year, tear for tear | |
Kneeling in front of the altar the wounds are opened | |
Dead riders are passing by | |
The shadows seeks what’s inside | |
While cold hands are gripping me | |
Puling me, tease me, kills me | |
They scream, calls for me | |
Then I can’t refrain from laughing | |
At what they can’t understand | |
How they are making me one of their own |
Jag andas in kall luft | |
andas ut | |
luften expanderar inf r mig | |
k nner mig f rsvinna | |
djupt in i mig sj lv | |
expanderar bortom mina egna gr nser | |
in i min eviga f rbannelse | |
det eviga tomrummet | |
d r jag blivit s kall i sinnet | |
Tankar formas f r varje andetag | |
f rryckta idee r om existens uppst r | |
det har blivit vardag | |
r f r r, t r f r t r | |
kn b jd framf r altaret ppnas s ren | |
d da ryttare rider f rbi | |
skuggorna s ker vad som finns inuti | |
medan kalla h nder greppar tag | |
river i mig, pl gar, d dar mig | |
de roper, skriker, kallar p mig | |
D kan jag inte annat n skratta | |
t vad de inte kan f rst | |
hur de g r mig till en av de mina | |
English translation: | |
With My Breath | |
I breathe in cold air | |
I breathe out | |
The air expands in me | |
I feel myself disappear | |
Deep into myself | |
Expanding beyond my own limits | |
Into my immortal curse | |
The never ending emptiness | |
Where I' ve become so cold at mind | |
Thoughts are shaped by every breath | |
Crazy ideas about existence is created | |
It has become weekday | |
Year for year, tear for tear | |
Kneeling in front of the altar the wounds are opened | |
Dead riders are passing by | |
The shadows seeks what' s inside | |
While cold hands are gripping me | |
Puling me, tease me, kills me | |
They scream, calls for me | |
Then I can' t refrain from laughing | |
At what they can' t understand | |
How they are making me one of their own |
Jag andas in kall luft | |
andas ut | |
luften expanderar inf r mig | |
k nner mig f rsvinna | |
djupt in i mig sj lv | |
expanderar bortom mina egna gr nser | |
in i min eviga f rbannelse | |
det eviga tomrummet | |
d r jag blivit s kall i sinnet | |
Tankar formas f r varje andetag | |
f rryckta ideé r om existens uppst r | |
det har blivit vardag | |
r f r r, t r f r t r | |
kn b jd framf r altaret ppnas s ren | |
d da ryttare rider f rbi | |
skuggorna s ker vad som finns inuti | |
medan kalla h nder greppar tag | |
river i mig, pl gar, d dar mig | |
de roper, skriker, kallar p mig | |
D kan jag inte annat n skratta | |
t vad de inte kan f rst | |
hur de g r mig till en av de mina | |
English translation: | |
With My Breath | |
I breathe in cold air | |
I breathe out | |
The air expands in me | |
I feel myself disappear | |
Deep into myself | |
Expanding beyond my own limits | |
Into my immortal curse | |
The never ending emptiness | |
Where I' ve become so cold at mind | |
Thoughts are shaped by every breath | |
Crazy ideas about existence is created | |
It has become weekday | |
Year for year, tear for tear | |
Kneeling in front of the altar the wounds are opened | |
Dead riders are passing by | |
The shadows seeks what' s inside | |
While cold hands are gripping me | |
Puling me, tease me, kills me | |
They scream, calls for me | |
Then I can' t refrain from laughing | |
At what they can' t understand | |
How they are making me one of their own |