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It's a winter evening

Pale and cold like death himself

Days full of nothing, days like stray dogs

I hear the creak of old ropes, the old ropes

Vultures looking up my deadly eyes

It's hard to breathe, the light is gone

My wounded flesh attracts the flies

Bodys are hanging on the gallows, the gallows

Pray for the sinners pray for the whores

You will go down with the holy lords

My body gets heavier

My thoughts are falling into meaningless

The rope tightens and I leave with a smile