An inhuman in our eyes, a failure  The mistake in the working clockwork, fullfilling our thoughts  Isolated from the decaying outside, he's the one who is inside  His consciousness is the far horizon  A grain of sand for a human being, nothing more, nothing less  He took a fistful of it, just to see what happens in his mind  The tour with the dead family, an indescribable behaviour  Are we denying ourselves?  Behind the abhorrance there's more than admiration  Our secret wish, his deeds so absolute  Build up the walls of aversion, to stop the loaning hands  His eyes are the only open, take a spoon  Deep inside us, the same image and desire  The fixation he knows well, take us under your wide wings  The cripples judge the pillar, coarse grids for coarse heads  He tried to cut off, but where is the sense among the dead?