In awkward times at awkward places ...   Rogues in glitter robes, with fierce grimaces   Sneak around me glowering   I should be running away   But I keep standing here in fires.      Sinister choirs of whip-lashing demons   With circling vultures in a dreadful allegiance   Sining out of tune in empty words and empty phrases   Heard it all before from a familiar face.      And every tone cuts deep like rain in april   Every chrod they form tears open the wounds      But today will be my day   When I stand up and be brace   Today it´s me and my ire   Today I stand alone in fires.      Was my heart one of a sparrow?   Gaged in the prospects of disbeliefer´s eyes   Was I lurking in my own shadow?   For a minute free of compromise.      So many years have passed inside the mussel   So many have defiled my realm   So many foreign tongues and unknown words   So many blether and blether and blether ...      Awoke. From sorrow sleep.      And every tone cuts deep like rain in april   Every chrod they form tears open the wounds      But today will be my day   When I stand up and be brace   Today it´s me and my ire   Today I stand alone in fires.