Fast, without a story the past falls After so many windy days A nameless new fog comes. All that you may hear is just a lost noise... Like a feverish hell's drone In this petrified hill. Anyway here it comes Looking like unforeseen joy In the end, as a thief As a silly memory. Stealing on stars on stars And their everlasting fire. Summertime, secretely Here it comes with its nonsense Stealing any revenge And the voice of the dumb dead Stealing both Satan's blood And every possible last hope. S'got your face, your language Your all-time depressing voice Your postcards from the world Sent off when you were a star. All the wanton lies you always spread And all the allies you always had Are now close to burn down. Unreal oblivion without sound Makes everything more ghostly while So still appears the garden. S'got the grudge you always had And the snobbery of whom Has a friend, maybe dead His stuffed body in the lounge. S'got the grudge you always had And the snobbery of whom Had a love, time ago... Who killed you before your crimes...