The edge of continuity for dream and reality
Shaman is dancing his dance of death;
the masks of the demonssurrounding me
This is my wedding ritual that gives the violence
The fog of the night, the dark water
to run through the expanse of light
The mysteries of civilizations
that left the Earth more of ten times return to me;
it gives no repose to me again and again
Standing in the forestand seeing the atricities
all is inside me, and it comes back in the dreams
The shaman dances, the masks are waiting for its demon
The knife is in my hand
The fog will never crawl away
My words are devoured by the bestial of silence
and in invisible chains shackle my moves
The dream continues it's gush to reality
and the shaman drums louder the rhytm to his dance of death