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Dusk, the paradise of all convicts

On the flight, there's no way back

Flash cut through the black darkness

Of the sixteenth century

My body is dead

Only eyes are following your face

They are always with you

Everywhere is blood you have me on conscience

To unbind a tongue of people

and give to the executioner

Where will this man come in the red hood alone?

The executioner, our only master - to satan?

Shackles are biding my body

Im given even to the sack alone

An extoly face under my mask

Im alive and you must pay a cruel tax

For my death